


Seeds of Redemption

by CRMediaGal



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Redeemed, Ben Solo's Redemption Realized, BenDemption Is Alive and Well, Better Than Canon, F/M, Fuck Canon, Fuck Canon With a Lightsaber, JJ Abrams and Team Are a Joke, Joke's On the Creators Because I'm About to Undo Every Mistake, LucasFilms Hire Me, M/M, Make Happy Endings Again in 2020, Minor Poe Dameron/Finn, Reylo Is Canon and They Live HEA, please and thank you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 143,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21866836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CRMediaGal/pseuds/CRMediaGal
Summary: The First Order may have fallen, but the Proclamation has risen in its stead. As the galaxy is threatened by the coming of a Second Darkness, Ben Solo must painstakingly navigate both sides, the Dark Side and the Light. Only he is no longer alone in this fight, with far more at stake to lose than he ever would have dreamed.Rated M, AU, TFA, TLJ, TROS, and Post-TROS.Originally written and published between December 2015 - April 2018.
Relationships: Ben Solo & Han Solo, Kylo Ren & Rey, Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Luke Skywalker & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 218
Kudos: 146





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Author’s Notes : Hi. Hello. Yeah, I'm back. And I've given myself an ultimatum:**
> 
> **After the release and despicably unsatisfying ending that was _The Rise of Skywalker_ , and thinking on so many other dear ReyBen/Reylo shippers out there who may be feeling as devastated and utterly shattered as I am (...or maybe it's just me; I mean, that's fine #RIPMyBrokenHeart), I decided to break my own rule from this past year in only posting this story, which has been five years in the making, privately at my website--[www.crmediagal.com](http://crmediagalhome.wordpress.com/)\--and posting it publicly here. One last time.**
> 
> **If this doesn't work out, well, at least, I gave it my best shot. For those who have been following the story over on[www.crmediagal.com](http://crmediagalhome.wordpress.com/), you will still receive early access to all future chapters and other exclusive content, including artwork. (I AM NO LONGER ACCEPTING ANY NEW REQUESTS AT THIS TIME FOR ACCESS, SO PLEASE DO NOT ASK. If you genuinely like this story, you may follow it here.) But I care too much about this fic and have invested too many years in Ben Solo's redemption storyline only to have his arc cruelly torched at the stake to _not_ try to offer forth this fic to the fans who cared about Ben Solo Redemption Realized as much as I did/do.** 💔
> 
> **Who knows? Maybe this will go well and encourage me to write publicly again one day...but for now, this is me testing the waters. I sincerely hope it finds a couple readers out there in the ether. This story has been my headcanon for Ben and Rey ever since _TFA_ was released (back when people were heavily speculating that they were related....#yikes), and I love it dearly, so my greatest wish is that there may be others, old or new, who love it, too.**
> 
> **Important Notes : This story is set in the future after the the conclusions of Episodes VII, VIII, and IX. Chapters 1-20 were written after the release of _The Force Awakens_ , Chapters 20-24 were written after the release of _The Last Jedi_ , and Chapters 25-(TBD) are written following the release of _The Rise of Skywalker_. As such, and as you will read, I drew my own AU conclusions throughout the years, so there is an equal mixture of canon and non-canon material here.**
> 
> **Rating: M for mature content. ( _Ye be warned_ ). Fic contains Drama, Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, and yes...REYLO!BABIES. Also, there are many flashbacks and revelations to explain how our Force sensitives came to be an item in this world…as well as a few of my own original additions who are now a part of their lives. Any reader out there familiar with my storytelling will expect this because I can’t help myself. Non-kinky Daddy!Ben and Momma!Rey are my jam. 🙂**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**   
> 

****

**Chapter 1**

_“Those whom we most love are often the most alien to us.”_  
―Christopher Paolini

* * *

The heavy-handed weight of this place felt menacing, its energy stifling, and yet, equally peculiar to the young girl’s heightened senses, like a luring, enticing tug on the untapped trappings of her mind. She knew its aim was dangerous, but its call piqued her curiosity, nonetheless, not for what the Darkness softly offered in her ear—she had never held much ambition for power—but for the person residing over this base who so strongly carried its taunts on his shoulders…and shouldn’t any longer.

She suspected what her mother might say. Yet, there was no need at this moment, so her commentary remained silent. Her Light acted as their protector, rays of indigo and violet fluttering across the edges of her daughter’s mind, softening the violent reds that poked and prodded ever so gently, wishing to engage the bright, intuitive Padawan…should she choose to grant them an audience.

Amidala blinked to re-centre herself, plucking long, black curls out of her eyes. _Breathe_ , she cautioned; or was that her mother speaking to her again? _Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. Steady. Calm. Yes… Breathe._

_Listless waves on the shore; the smell of fresh grass; Mum’s favourite spiced cakes; Dad’s restrained, sometimes sad laughter…_

_‘Do not be afraid, Ami.’_

_Mere minutes ago she had twitched and tried to swallow her fears at those very words. ‘I’m not as strong as Mum…or you,’ she had confided to him, her voice quivering despite her best efforts to show no fright._

_‘You are just as strong and more capable than you have yet to realise.’_ _His shoulders had straightened and she, too, soon sensed the distress. The hunt was gaining, and there was little time. She couldn’t read his face, but even with that seemingly impenetrable contraption that veiled his angst-ridden expression and altered his voice, the care with which he addressed her was clear, as overt as if they were conversing back home in a sheltered oasis where no Darkness could touch them; or so they had thought. ‘Follow your mother’s lead. Look after your brother and sister. Stay out of sight._

_‘It will be all right.’_

_That addendum had been an afterthought, meant to alleviate her nerves—or his, Amidala wasn’t certain—but, once more, there was no time to fuss. He turned around and stalked to the blast doors, which opened with a understated wave of his hand, and her collected mother, who stood just out of their range, leapt forward to grasp his wrist. Her clutch was so tight that his feet actually gave way and staggered side to side, though the temporary lapse in balance was minimal and went unrecognised by the others. Amidala was older, however, her senses sharper than her siblings’._

_The darkly cloaked figure and her mother locked eyes on one another, an unspoken communication passing between them that Amidala could feel but not penetrate. ‘You’ll come?’ her mother had whispered; there was a twinge of apprehension in the question she posed which Amidala didn’t like. It made the hairs on the back of her neck rise._

_He hesitated…or paused. In either case, it put Amidala and her siblings on edge, her mother as well. ‘As soon as I’m able,’ came his vague response which didn’t alleviate the gathering nerves of this impromptu family meeting._

_Regardless, it was sufficient enough to satisfy her mother. She responded with a curt nod but dithered another moment before letting him go. Her hand reluctantly recoiled its grip, the Light—her poised, warm energy—wrapping the space in comfort but, most especially, embracing his own. It gracefully furled and curled around him, swatting at streaks of red and whisking them farther from the room, though not eliminating their presence entirely._

_The masked individual stepped outside of the blast doors and was greeted by a pair of Stormtroopers who had been tasked with scanning the lower confines of the base, searching, chasing, their prey nearly in sight. Amidala and her siblings lurched backward, all hoping against hope that they hadn’t just doomed themselves, but the Force had, so far, been working to their advantage, with Amidala the only child of the three aware of its attendance. The Darkness yanked desperately at the fringes, though, toying, wanting to alter their predicament and bend it to a much more horrifying conclusion._

_“They’re not here,” the masked man spoke through that voice manipulator Amidala despised; his back was turned to the inside of the room. “Report to General Hux your findings.”_

_“They’re not here,” one of the Stormtroopers repeated, his voice monotone, automated. “We shall report to General Hux that the area is clear.”_

_The two Stormtroopers turned on their heels and marched off, followed closely by their commander. The blast doors closed, and he was gone._

_Half tempted to call after him, Amidala reeled her flighty emotions in at full speed, no doubt with the quiet aid of her mother’s stablising energy. Such an act would have been utterly foolish at this time, not to mention secure their recapture._

_“Come!” her mother commanded to her children, beckoning them with a frantic wave of her hand._

_They all rushed to her side, each looking to their self-assured mother for guidance on what to do next. The youngest let forth a whimper before falling silent. Having her mother take her by the hand seemed to bestow the reassurance her fretful little heart required._

_‘This hanger’s empty,’ their mother deduced after a short lapse of silence in which her mind wandered, channeling to spot anything sinister. She then looked to Amidala, continuing to speak to them in their minds, ‘You sense it?’_

_‘Yes,’ Amidala concurred. The Padawan’s heart was pounding like a caged bird wanting to take flight. It was too onerous for her senses, the Darkness that lurked in every corner tempting and encroaching upon her thoughts and playing upon her fears._

_‘Stay close,’ her mother hissed and, still grasping the youngest’s hand, led the way through the blast doors, swerving to the right whilst keeping her back to the wall. The children mimicked her swift, precise movements, with Amidala bringing up the rear. She kept one hand on the lightsaber attached to her belt, allowing her instincts to guide her direction and determine whether it should be used; or abandoned._

* * *

A half hour later Amidala found herself and her brother parted from their mother and sister…and unwillingly so. The plan was simple enough (well, in ‘theory’ anyway): surprise any Stormtroopers and personnel stationed at the entrance to the base where their ship resided. It had been taken into the enemy’s custody upon the family’s arrival two days prior and, according to ‘Kylo Ren’, it hadn’t been relocated from the area.

Now that they had successfully found their way back to the compartmentalized runway, where Amidala and her brother were to await their mother’s next instructions from the opposite entrance before putting their surprise attack into motion, they hid. Only once she gave the signal would they fight back, making a (hopefully fortunate) escape.

So far her mother and sister had been nowhere to be found, but Amidala reminded herself that she and her brother had only just arrived to their hiding spot a minute ago. That hadn’t deterred the Padawan’s racing thoughts from drawing the worst possible conclusions, however.

_It’s the Darkness. It wants you to yield. Ignore it._

What if her mother’s and Astrid’s efforts had somehow been intercepted? _No… You’d have sensed it._ What if they had been injured or were trapped and unable to get to the entrance? _No… You’d have felt that disturbance, too._

‘Trust your feelings.’ That’s what her mother and father kept reiterating to her over and over again. In the midst of fright, however, such a practice was trying to master.

Amidala made to collect herself, stealing several calculated, deep breaths. The Darkness was most suffocating on this level, impinging upon her every effort to clear her mind and find her centre. _Dad…_ At least, when he had been close by, the atmosphere wasn’t as imbalanced or unbearable. Of course, that hadn’t meant it was pleasant either but, rather, more evenly tempered and controlled. She had understood his Force energy better than she ought to. 

The sour remembrance of her father’s position pained Amidala to think on, so she pushed it as far from her as possible. Besides, she tried to thoughtfully consider, they would never have made it this far without him. In fact, they owed any chance at an escape _entirely_ to his intervention. They would still be locked in their holding cells otherwise, waiting on pins and needles to know what was to become of them, unaware if the rest of the family was safe, being interrogated, or, worse, had been disposed of.

Amidala drew out a long, hopeful sigh. With any luck, they just _might_ pull this off.

Crouched behind a series of supports and thick wires, Amidala brushed a hand through her hair, now messy and in disarray after being aggressively manhandled for days by the enemy. She made a thorough scan of the entrance. Four Stormtroopers stood just feet from them, oblivious to their presence, and casually conversed with one another. Three more stood at the opposite end of the hanger, from whence their mother and sister were to appear at any moment. Other officials of the Proclamation—pilots, fighters, and the like—hustled and went about their daily business.

Still not having glimpsed eye or hair of the others, Amidala looked to her brother, who was turning over a blaster rifle in his hands and inspecting each button. It had been stolen off of an unfortunate Stormtrooper the family encountered shortly before splitting up. 

“You remember how to use that thing?” she questioned, surveying the too fly-by-the-seam-of-his-pants boy with a wary expression that should have deterred his confidence…but, somehow, it never did.

He turned his shaggy head of dark brown tresses towards her and a rather cocky smirk emerged at the corners of his mouth. It was the kind that regularly set his sister’s teeth on edge. And he knew it. “Yeah. Safety’s off this time.”

Amidala rolled her eyes. Her brother was the reckless one— _And a damned idiot!_ _Always has been!_ —especially when it came to perilous instances like this when one wrong move could put an end to more than just their goal of safely returning home. No wonder he hadn’t developed any awareness in the Force. _With any luck, he never will._

Amidala shifted her emotions back to their task, reverting to that serene balance she had been struggling to clasp ever since they had arrived at this wretched base. Thankfully, her mother’s and sister’s silhouettes suddenly materialised across the room, forcing Amidala to chuck her meditation session out of a figurative window.

“ _Han_ ,” she snapped and yanked hard on his ear; the boy cursed and scowled at his older sister, “ _get ready_!”

Their mother craned her neck to get a better sense of the space, though not inching far enough forward to get herself caught—yet—and made a gesture with her left hand that indicated for Amidala and Han to move. Amidala stepped out of hiding first, with her brother close on her heel. In the next instant, her mother’s lightsaber vibrated to life, blazing a blue brilliance that tore through the space at terrorising speed. Amidala’s lightsaber followed suit.

The room ignited with the sound of firearms and jets of light flying in every direction. Shouts for backup were barely registered above the commotion. Some ran for cover whilst others stood their ground and fought.

Amidala wielded her lightsaber according to the Light of the Force, bending and trusting in its guidance. Visions of turquoise and azure flew past her eyes, honing her instincts. ‘Trust your feelings’ replayed like a beacon as she spun her lightsaber at one target and then the next. Two shots aimed at her and Han combusted when met by her trusty lightsaber, barrelling back at their shooters and striking one in the chest and the other in the face. Both were instantly knocked to the ground and dead on impact.

Han pelted another shot at a Stormtrooper with his blaster rifle, knocking the female cadet in the shoulder but not suitably enough to cause a fatality. The Stormtrooper cried out in pain but took another shot at the boy, missing him by inches. “NO!” Amidala cried. Another blast that would have surely struck its mark charged for Han but was redirected by an invisible hold that Amidala perceived to be coming from her mother. The blast ricocheted sideways and ripped through a glass overhang where officials were attempting to intercept the attack now in play.

Amidala searched for her mother, catching her mid-flight as her lightsaber sliced through a Stormtrooper’s armour, killing him instantly. She spotted her sister next, making a mad dash up the ramp to their ship. She charged forward to block a firearm that would have otherwise knocked Astrid out cold and her sister successfully made it onto the aircraft. Han followed closely behind, leaving Amidala and her mother to reach the ramp last.

Having overpowered the batch of Stormtroopers, more began spilling into the entrance to the runway and blasting at the Jedi and Jedi-in-training, hell-bent on putting a stop to their getaway. Though Amidala had been able to occlude her opponents thus far and send any shots spiralling back at the enemy, if they didn’t get out of here fast, they would most certainly be overrun.

_And all of Dad’s efforts will have been for naught. They’ll surely find out he helped us._

“ _GO_!” her mother bellowed over her shoulder, as if drawing the same terrifying conclusion. She wrenched her daughter backward by the hood of her cloak.

Amidala delayed her retreat, wanting to ensure that her mother intended to follow. Only once she spun around did Amidala do likewise and, together, they bolted up the ramp and onto the ship. Astrid, pinned against the nearest wall, clapped the button that locked the doors, securing everyone inside.

Their mother wasted no time and sprinted for the pilot’s chair at the front of the spacecraft. “ _GET THIS THING IN THE AIR, HAN_!” she exclaimed.

The ship grumbled in response, its unreliable engine thudding to life beneath their feet. Amidala left her mother and brother to pilot them safely out of this mess and hurried over to tend to Astrid, who had remained huddled against the wall, trembling with adrenaline and fear. A severe cut on her bottom lip had drawn blood. She was far too young for any of this, Amidala concluded as she slowly extracted a rifle the girl was gripping too firmly to her chest. She prayed her five-year old sister hadn’t been forced to use it but both her shrewd senses and the little one’s traumatised expression indicated otherwise.

“It’s all right,” Amidala whispered, speaking at a levelled tone that she hoped might soothe her sister. “Don’t worry, Astrid. Everything’s going to be all right now, I promise.”

“But…wha – what about Daddy?” she asked, blinking and breathing rapidly. “Is – Isn’t he coming with us?”

Amidala gulped down her reservations before answering, keeping her voice as even as possible, “No…but he’ll be along soon, I’m sure. He promised he would.”

The ship abruptly jerked sidelong, sending the girls off balance and straddling the floor. The sounds of blasts pounding against the spacecraft prompted them to hastily make their way towards the cockpit and strap themselves securely into seats. 

_This thing always was a piece of junk_ , Amidala griped as she helped buckle her sister in first. Her thought was apparently loud enough for her mother to overhear, for she whipped her head around so fast that Amidala thought it might spin straight off her shoulders.

“This ‘piece of junk’ is the only thing saving our hides right now, Amidala! I suggest you say a little prayer instead!”

Amidala’s eyes widened. _Why does everyone always get so defensive over this thing?_

“Say what?” Han probed from the co-pilot's chair, as Stormtroopers continued to fire at the front of the ship. Somehow surmising his sister’s inner dialogue, he shot daggers at her from over his shoulder. “Grandpa would turn over in his grave if he heard you say that—”

“ _Oh, buzz off_!” Amidala groused and crossed her arms.

“Grandma will have your arse, too—”

“ _That’s enough_ ,” their mother warned and the promise in that threat was enough to silence her sparring children. For the moment, anyhow.

Amidala’s last thought before the Millennium Falcon catapulted into Lightspeed was a quiet, sobering one that she could feel her mother share; it was for the father and husband who was sorely missing from their crew and consisted of only one desperate plea: _Hurry home. Please…_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author’s Notes : Thank you so much for your likes, comments, and support! It means the world to me and I'm really happy to know that there are interested Reylo readers out there. ❤️**
> 
> **A Few Important Addendums Regarding This Story I Neglected To Mention Earlier : As was previously outlined in Chapter 1, the first twenty chapters or so of this story were written between the releases of _TFA_ and _TLJ_ , so Snoke plays a heavy role in this story. However, I have plans to introduce Palpatine later on, so that will be introduced at a much later date. Oh, and as an aside, I'm full-on rejecting Rey as a Palpatine. ~~Ew. No thanks. Take it back, JJ and Disney. Y'all can have that weak 'gotcha' twist because, to me, it reeks of poor writing and old fashioned bullsh*t.~~**
> 
> **ANYWAYS...**
> 
> **I officially saw _TROS_ this morning, so I'm in eternal pain...and if I routinely sound bitter in my A/Ns, that's why. I sincerely hope that, despite it being a bit of an angsty tale, it's of comfort to readers who need this type of scenario where Ben's alive, married to Rey, and, together, they've moved forward in life and are raising a loving family of their own. **
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

****

**Chapter 2**

_“The most confused you will ever get is when you try to convince your heart and spirit of something your mind knows is a lie.”_  
―Shannon L. Alder

* * *

 _“Ben,_ please _, what is it?”_

_His stare had been weighty and troubling all evening. He had, also, been stubbornly occluding her from his thoughts. Now that she and he were alone, tucked into bed with their arms securely woven around one another, Rey sensed that she wasn’t going to deride much pleasure from whatever Ben was ready to divulge in private._

_“He reached me today…” His deep voice barely rose above a whisper, sounding oddly fragile, even a touch fearful._

_Rey’s soft eyes widened in alarm. At once, she bolted upright in bed, sending a portion of the sheets flying away from their comfortably entwined, naked limbs. “_ What _?” she gasped and clutched him by the arm. “Are you certain? When? But_ how _?”_

_“I…” he began but was able to expound no more._

_“That’s impossible!” Rey turned over past events in her mind, details of intense images from years past which Ben, too, received passing flashes of. “We – We watched him die! I_ saw _it!”_

_Ben’s mouth tightened, contorting into a single grim line. The words were on the tip of his tongue, and yet, there was a reluctance to share them._

_Rey’s shoulders fell, eyes narrowing in challenge. She had a hunch as to what was coming. “What?” she pressed him through gritted teeth; she had already tried prying at his mind but his thoughts were still purposely shutting her out._

_“Well…if you remember, Rey, you_ were _knocked unconscious…”_

 _Rey’s cheeks brightened. “You don’t believe me!_ Still _! After everything—”_

 _“_ Of course I believe you _,” he spoke over her, though in a much quieter, even register. He covered her dainty hand with his much larger digits, offering a reassuring squeeze in the darkness. “I just…” His eyes levelled and bore deeper into his wife’s, willingly transferring the eerie message he had received earlier that day whilst at Proclamation’s Star base. When the ghostly pictures faded to black, Rey looked worse for the wear, pale and near sick with dread. “It wasn’t a dream; it wasn’t a hallucination. He spoke to me, Rey. I felt it, just as I feel you now. He… He’s alive.”_

_Rey discerned the Light in Ben’s energy as it swaddled around her like a thermal blanket, alleviating rays of ocean blues and pastels meant to encompass and will away the panic that was so swiftly overpowering her, like an angry tied about to flounce back into the sea and destroy those in its path._

_Neither of them could afford to lose their heads. Not now._

_“All right,” Rey breathed in and out several times; her grip on Ben’s arm remained tight, “we – we’ll handle this. I don’t know how, but we’ll figure something out. We – We’ll need to devise a new strategy for how to combat…” She didn’t want to vocalise the demented creature’s name—that would make it all the more real—and only forced herself to with some of Ben’s lingering, encouraging energy, “Snoke.”_

_‘Snoke.’_

_The name was bone-chilling, evil; it’s very mention dripped with Darkness, even in this most cherished, protected space of Love and Light, tainting the night and the air around them with the most wicked and vile energy of which nightmares were devised. These days, if ever mentioned, the name was supposed to sound dead on the tongue, not something that lived and breathed and crawled amongst the living like a virus unable to be eradicated._

_Ben and Rey stared at each other for an extended period of time without speaking after that, listening to one another’s nervous intakes of breath, trying to instil some desperately desired clarity as to the unthinkable situation neither of them was at all prepared to face. Eventually, Rey was the first to break the silence. Her fingers had loosened their hold on Ben’s arm and, instead, had begun grazing over the raised goosebumps that had settled upon his flesh. They weren’t on account of the cold, for the spring air was pleasant and comfortable this evening but for the dreadful news that had been so unfairly dropped in their laps._

_“Do you know where he is?”_

_“No…”_

_It was the truth. Rey nodded. “Do… Do you suppose you’ll be able to find out?”_

_“Perhaps… He doesn’t trust me; it would take an extraordinary act of loyalty on my part for that to ever happen again.”_

_“But… He must know you’re with the Proclamation, though?”_

_“I’m sure he does.”_

_Rey gulped down the uneasy lodging at the back of her throat. It didn’t ease any of her discomfort, however. “Do General Hux and others know he’s alive?”_

_“I haven’t figured that out yet, but I intend to do so soon enough.”_

_Rey’s thoughts immediately turned to their friends with the Resistance and she perceived Ben’s mind weaving in that same direction. “We’ll have to inform your mother first thing in the morning.”_

_Ben’s lips cracked a small, strained smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Already have.”_

* * *

**One and a Half Years Before the Solo Family’s Escape From Proclamation’s Star Base**

Rey stepped outside of the hut to soak in the fresh morning air, in need of a few precious moments of respite from the ugly commotion playing out indoors. Ben might have chastised her for not handling the situation more efficiently— _Well, he’s not here, damn it!_ —but to hell with whatever personal complaints he might hold regarding her parental duties later on. The chaos was giving her a maddening headache, and the sun had only been in the sky for less than a half hour.

At present, her eldest daughter, Amidala, was grappling with her son, Han—the pair of them arguing obnoxiously loud over some damned thing or other that, frankly, was too early in the day for Rey to give proper consideration to—whilst their littlest, Astrid, shrieked at the top of her lungs every so often, mostly just to make her little presence known to the others. Not that she didn’t already receive ample attention from her parents and big brother, but the insecurity in the wee one was already pining for more of her older siblings’ time, even at such a tender, young age. She liked getting in the middle of their heated debates, if only to steal their awareness for a couple moments. Rey supposed it must be typical of that age range, the third child wishing to establish her belonging amongst the family dynamics. She had expected that more from Han, though, the middle child, not from her youngest.

Amidala screamed at Astrid to “Shut it,” which made Rey cringe. She loathed how her eldest tended to go about ignoring Astrid. The moody ten-year old might dramatically carry on about how she had “too much to do” all the time, what with her strict Padawan studies, but that didn’t lessen the ache in Rey’s heart at seeing how badly Astrid yearned for so much as a fraction of her older sister’s time. She admired her so.

Rey would have easily given up her scrap of a home life back on Jakku had she been so fortunate as to be given the gift of a sister. Life would have been a lot less lonely for the first two decades of her life had she had someone like Amidala or Astrid—or even a mischievous brother like Han—by her side.

_They have no idea how fortunate they are. One day they’ll realise it; or so help me…_

Rey withdrew a long, drawn out sigh and turned to the serene pink skies above. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen and all was quiet and still on this early morn, the occasional rumbling of a passing spacecraft not withstanding. Rey craned her neck as one suddenly soared overhead, its wings gliding towards the reformed city that lay to the East, roughly ten miles from their location.

A neutral ship, Rey determined, though not with the Resistance, probably on its way to meet with Maz Kanata or some raider of less reputable standing. It didn’t matter to her. She, Ben, their entire brood, even her mother-in-law, were indebted to the wise pirate’s charitable good graces. And her reliable secrecy.

Takodana may not have boasted of the most principled lot of travellers—or even permanent residents—but Maz openly denied any and all Proclamation sympathisers. It made her trustworthy, though there were other noble factors to her credit as well. Rey appreciated the planet’s natural, sacred, feral beauty, unlike any she had encountered in her travels. And she had visited and resided on many planets since leaving the dry, desert planet of Jakku so many years ago.

Her family could have taken up residence virtually anywhere in the galaxy, but since their arrival on Takodana some two years prior, their latest dwelling felt more homey and fitting than the last several in a row. Hers and Ben’s roles in the Resistance meant relocating every few years was the norm, not that they enjoyed having to force their children to pick up and start over. Amidala and Han had adapted to their latest habitat, but for Astrid, it was the only home she was able to put to memory. Yet.

Maz had offered Takodana as a safe-haven for the Solos when the time had been paramount and, though Ben was reluctant, Rey was more than agreeable to its coordinates. Now it was the closest to a proper home she could have ever hoped for her family. Their hut was well off the beaten path, isolated from the town centre and set back amongst a stunning array of one thousand-year old trees and overgrown brush. If anyone was searching in these parts, they would have to make quite the extensive hike to reach the Solo family’s whereabouts.

A perfect refuge. A (near) perfect spot to hide from the Proclamation.

It was a vision the former scavenger-turned Jedi Master would never grow numb to: vast, dense greenland as far as the eye could see, the smell of fresh salt water, the soothing ripple of running streams…

“ _OUCH_!” came Han’s affronted cry from inside the house, disrupting Rey’s mediation. “You did that on purpose!”

“Serves you right!” Amidala snarled back.

A chair screeched against the floor like the sound of scratchy nails on metal. Rey unconsciously chewed the inside of her cheek.

“What the— And that, too! _MUM_!”

“ _Amidala_ ,” Rey exclaimed from where she stood, like a stump defiantly rooted to the earth; she refused to lose her nerve but wouldn’t hesitate to raise her voice, “ _you quit using your powers on your brother this instant_.”

“HE STARTED IT! NERF HERDER!”

“AT LEAST CHEWIE _LIKES_ ME! HE CAN’T STAND YOU!”

“ _Shut it, both of you, or you’ll spend the rest of the day in your rooms_.”

Furious stomping and a few choice words were exchanged before the rowing finally receded, making all quiet and serene once more. _Too quiet_. Rey’s senses warned her that this small endowment of peace wouldn’t last but a moment. She rubbed a hand down her tired face, letting forth a long-suffering groan.

Sometimes it was completely mind-boggling to remember that these three beings, dependent upon her and her husband to thrive and survive in this ever-increasingly unbalanced universe, were not only a part of her everyday life but living, breathing extensions of herself and Ben.

Not that Rey had any deep-rooted quibbles about motherhood. She merely wished her children, whom she loved as fiercely as she had loved anyone, could grow up at a time of great peace and prosperity in the galaxy.

Alas, that couldn’t have been farther from reality. Would their children ever truly know _real_ peace; a world without the constant threat of a dictatorship or a vile Empire intent on covering the entire galaxy in Darkness and despair?

_I hope so… I pray so…_

“Mummy?” came the sweet, innocent sound of Astrid’s tiny voice.

Rey turned around and removed the sour look she had been donning. It was trying to stay in a bad—or even pensive—mood when Astrid was fluttering about, filtering hers and Ben’s days with credulous questions about the world and unguarded remarks that sometimes left her parents bereft of words.

A three and a half-year old, curious youngster with plenty of spunk and personality to rival her siblings, Astrid stared up at Rey with imploring, bright eyes. Her smile was polite but hopeful, her hazel irises wide and wondrous. Today her wavy black curls were knotted into frizzy, uneven rolls perched on top of her head, more akin to loose, disjointed ponytails rather than what were intended to be two smooth, perfectly-shaped buns.

 _Nicely done, Ben_ , Rey humoured over the absurdity that her husband had left her to regard.

When the man was home, Astrid preferred that her father brush and do her hair, though he was rather useless with said task— _But by the moon and the stars does he_ try, Rey mused fondly—never ceasing to come up with some funny alternative that usually required Rey’s tweaking. Astrid hadn’t allowed her mother to alter this latest hairdo, however, and had kept it intact for nearly two days, refusing to wash it.

“Yes, little star?” Rey replied, bending down to be closer to the child.

“We see Grandma today?”

Rey’s warm smile fell. “I’m afraid not, Astrid. Grandma’s busy, Mummy has to take Ami to train with Uncle Luke, and Han’s going with your father to D’Qar.”

Astrid’s crestfallen eyes lit up. “Then I go, too, Mummy?”

“It’s too dangerous, Astrid—”

“But Han’s going!” She stomped one of her miniature boots into the ground to emphasise what she considered to be a most grave injustice.

“My little star, you can accompany Daddy to any Resistance-friendly planet in the galaxy…when you’re _older_.”

Still dissatisfied, Astrid pushed out her bottom lip. “It’s not fair,” she whined softly. “I never get to go anywhere…”

“You will soon enough, Astrid, I promise, but you can come with me to visit Uncle Luke for a bit?”

“We _always_ see Uncle Luke.”

Astrid did not wait on a sound response from Rey. She sulked back into the house, dragging her feet and with her head hung low. She disappeared into the kitchen, mumbling her displeasure about today’s uneventful plans under her breath as she went.

 _Well, that’s partially true_ , Rey agreed, with a muffled chuckle. She and her children _had_ seen a great deal more of Master Luke lately since he had become temporarily stationed at Takodana for a month. The severely reclusive Jedi had yet to reveal to anyone his reasoning for spending so much time on Takodana of late, including to Rey and Ben. His appearance certainly hadn’t turned out to be of more use to his great niece, Amidala, and her Padawan training, however, much to their aggravations.

As for his secrecy, and as far as Rey was concerned, there were no secrets to be had amongst those in the Resistance, of which Master Luke, she, and Ben were all equal members. Her Master’s covertness was tiresome. After all, it had been Rey who had had to convince the hermit of a man to return to his sister—and the Resistance—years before. Yet, since the fall of the First Order and the rise of the Proclamation, Master Luke had become more withdrawn than ever. His time spent on Takodana had shown little improvement in his mysterious antics, unfortunately.

The elderly Jedi had agreed to train their daughter, Amidala, from the time she first began showing signs of a connection to the Force around age five, but his instructions were too often infrequent and unreliable. His training sessions with Rey had been much the same: scant and exasperatingly vague to the point of unhelpful sometimes. Rey had hoped he would prove a more effective instructor with her daughter than he ultimately had been to her, but he had yet to fully illustrate that capacity, and even spending so much time on the same planet as his great niece hadn’t forced Master Luke to act any more dependable.

_‘I fear it’s because of me,’ Ben would sometimes carp to Rey, though only in private when Amidala wasn’t around to overhear. ‘He doesn’t trust me, so, naturally, he keeps his distance from Ami, too. He shuts her out because of me. It’s completely unfair to her.’_

_‘I don’t think it’s a conscientious thing, Ben,’ Rey would thoughtfully counter him, making a point to gently press his hand. ‘You know how he is… How he’s long been. It pains Luke to get too close to anyone anymore.’_

_Ben’s returning expression was stoic and somber, unflinching in his feelings. ‘I, too, have a great deal of responsibility in that, Rey. You know why…’_

Rey shook her head to rid herself of that recurrent, heavy-handed conversation. There was no reason to let the past get the better of her so early in the new day. She would mediate and reflect on them later, perhaps, when Astrid was otherwise happily preoccupied. Uncle Luke had made a promise to teach Amidala today and Rey intended to hold him to that promise. _Or so help me…_

Rey tensed, though only for a moment. She hadn’t heard his ship arrive, though it had landed a mile or two away. If the Proclamation was to ever raise their suspicions about their ‘faithful’ commander and decide to follow him, whether it be to Takodana or somewhere else remote, there was ‘no way in hell’ (according to Ben) that his ship would be discovered anywhere near the family’s residence. Rey was satisfied with their arrangement.

“ _Daddy_!” Rey heard their youngest squeak, unmistakable joy in her address as she tumbled several steps to greet him.

There was a tender, affectionate exchange that struck up between the two in the kitchen, a short conversation Rey could overhear with her sensitive ears from the back of the house.

“I see you’ve still kept your buns in place, little star.”

Astrid giggled. “Mummy wanted to take them out.”

“Good girl.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t let her.”

Rey snorted but refrained from rolling her eyes. There was the familiar sound of leather boots trudging through the house, out the backdoor, and straight for her, but she didn’t so much as turn her head. The footsteps stopped directly behind her, and even without their mutual link to the Force charging and playfully tugging at one another—or the man’s hefty-prone footwork—Rey would have guessed it was her husband for a number of other wonderful reasons, all of which made her privately grin: his enormously tall silhouette that engulfed her in shadow; the clove waft of his aftershave that penetrated the back of her neck; the feel of those well-acquainted, masterful hands, which wielded the power to break someone’s neck with remarkable ease, brushing along her skin in such lithe, delicate strokes that it too often left Rey inarticulate.

“You’re back,” she murmured, the comforted smile she wore spreading to her rose-tinted cheeks.

“Only for a little, I’m afraid.”

Rey refused to be boggled down by that reminder and let it dampen his arrival. She spun around, without losing her balance, and landed effortlessly in Ben’s sturdy embrace. Those stark, black robes and hair-razing mask had all been discarded, abandoned to the ship upon which he had arrived, as was routine. Here, he wasn’t permitted (nor would he ever wish) to appear as the debauched, twisted other half who had so ruthlessly claimed his soul decades before, Kylo Ren. Here, he was simply Ben, a Solo clad in plain, unremarkable brown robes, a notable scar that ran the length of his long, angular face, though his wife and children didn’t register its existence much anymore, and (mostly) open, kindhearted features, though the eyes… The eyes, strangers continued to whisper, were wondrously dark and haunting, plagued by a tumultuous past, perhaps, even a conflicted present.

Ben wove Rey into a possessively snug hug, trailing his fingers across the smallness of her back and pulling her tightly to his chest. His lips pressed against hers, sensuous and explorative, their soft greeting one of declared all-consuming need.

“Hello,” she hummed and returned his faithful kiss.

An ambience of tranquil sea greens and bright corals spurred their connection deeper, its energy charging but nonintrusive. Not in this safe sanctuary.

 _Yes_ , Rey deduced without any real need to do so, her mouth smiling appreciatively against Ben’s. He had indeed left the Darkness behind him. It loomed everywhere, of course, lurking in corners, no matter which mask he wore or where his feet might fly, following and tempting its one-time eagerest of students like an owner dangling a bone in front of a now starved, depraved pet’s nose; but for now, and in this place, it was nearly wiped from his side, as if resigned to patiently await his return to the ship that had brought him momentarily home. He consciously strove at every moment to push it from anyone’s awareness, most importantly their innocent children.

Here, in this quaint hut on the outskirts of Takodana, Ben Solo could be his imperfect, tainted, yet enlightened—and lighter—self. He was Rey’s, and he was benevolent and openhanded, conflicted, yes, and often times prone to melancholy; but, at his heart, _good_ and _true_.

“Hello,” he returned once their lip-locking ceased. His returning smile was cushioned, though not as far-reaching or as strong as hers. “Is he ready?”

“I believe so,” said Rey, hesitant to unfurl her arms from around his neck. “You’d best be off soon or you’re likely to have a stowaway on your hands…”

Ben arched a questioning eyebrow, followed the amused expression Rey was projecting towards something that stood beyond his sights, and cautiously turned around. Their youngest stood leaning against the doorway, still pouting and appearing thoroughly put out by everything. “You can come another time, little star,” he pledged, with a certain childlike enthusiasm that Rey found endearing. He only received an overdone sigh and a woeful cry for that promise. “Erm, we’ll just be leaving, then.”

Ben gave an awkward grunt, pecked his wife’s cheek, and returned to the house, summoning their son with a few urgent calls of his name, whilst Rey looked on, still smiling.

* * *

“Shields are up?”

“Yep!”

“Compressors shut?”

“Check!”

Han sat straighter in the co-pilot’s chair, hungrily pouncing on instructions that might put his young piloting skills to the test. He enjoyed the thrill of these assessments, mostly for the proud looks they garnered from his father whenever he victoriously accomplished one of Ben’s more difficult assignments.

Ben gave his avid co-pilot a thoughtful smile and nodded towards all the deep space surrounding their small starfighter. They had been in the air but a few minutes, but this wasn’t a feat his seven-year old son wasn’t accustomed to undertaking. Not only did Han live for flying, but he had proved himself time and again unusually cool under pressure, particularly for a child. He had been testing his flying skills ever since he was first able to sit on Ben’s lap and successfully reach the piloting gadgets. His parents thought it important to keep expanding Han’s knowledge of various spacecrafts and routes. Thus, per routine, Ben relinquished control the moment their latest excursion took off.

“I’m entrusting you to navigate,” he told Han, who didn’t so much as flinch at this obligation. Ben could sense the exhilarated energy his son was putting out and those, in turn, brought him joy. After all, it was the ‘little things’, he reminded himself, like spending quality time with his son, which made up for…well, all of the grisly rest. “By my calculations, it shouldn’t take us—”

“More than ten minutes to reach D’Qar,” Han finished for him, catching the gratified expression that crossed his father’s gaze. He settled his small hands at the controls, ready to take the reigns with Ben’s permission.

Ben granted his consent, providing another silent bow of his head, and fell back in his seat, stretching his long legs as far as they might expand within such cramped quarters. The pilot’s chair of this contraption didn’t suit his towering frame and never had. A kink was forming in his lower back as a result. Ben grunted and wished it away.

It wasn’t a good time for mediation, though his entire being screamed for its practice. He hadn’t meditated in days and the pounding pressure on his skull was becoming agonising; it was slowly receding with time spent away from the Proclamation but only just. Shutting himself off from the Dark Side once he returned to his family was never an easygoing or straightforward task but an endlessly painstaking endurance, one that regularly wore his mind and body down.

He could use a short break, he determined, and with Han taking over flying duties, that might afford that window of respite he so immensely craved. He trusted Han to get them safely to D’Qar—the boy had flown this course twice before—and yet, still, as was always the way of things in Ben’s too perilous-driven world, letting his guard down was a difficulty.

_That’s when all hell will break loose…or worse…_

Rather, he settled in for a focus session with his mind; or as much forced concentration as his weary brain might enable.

With little effort, Ben’s eyes slid shut. He placed an emphasis on his breathing for a time, listening to the unfailing will of the Force—of the Light; always that precious Light that, at times, alluded and retreated, just out of arm’s reach. The reverberation of the engine flying them steadfastly towards their destination relieved much of the tension that had been pressing on his chest and shoulders. He could reach that Light. Those heavenly sky blues were within his grasp, tauntingly close, yet flapping above or behind him, separated by inches and never directly in front…

“ _Son of a_ —”

Ben’s eyes shot open, the shock of his body rattling about knocking him forward, though a mere moment or two passed before his senses came ’round. He sat up in the pilot’s chair immediately and looked around. Somehow, despite all of his meticulous efforts, he had dosed off mid-flight. He squinted in protest to the sunlight that poured into the front of the ship, moaning at its harsh luminosity.

“Erm, sorry, Dad,” Han mumbled to his right, prompting Ben to turn his head; his neck was stiff from having fallen asleep at a rather poor angle. His son had a sheepish, apologetic look about him as he proceeded to hurriedly explain, “I tried to land the stupid thing without waking you, but the wind picked up at the last minute and then I didn’t see that brush there until it was too late. I – I think I took out a tree…”

 _As long as it wasn’t a life form, I’m satisfied_ , Ben thought to himself, smartly choosing to keep that wise crack to himself. “It’s all right, son,” he insisted, with a reassuring pat to the boy’s shoulder.

Han was already dashing down the ramp to inspect the minor damage before Ben could properly stifle a yawn behind his hand and unstrap his seatbelt. As he rose, he felt the faintest pull of the Force on his neck, minimal but effective, protective and welcoming.

 _Mother_.

From inside the Resistance’s headquarters and standing within a rotunda-shaped room where she was busily examining the details to a far-off solar system, General Organa lifted her head in composed, quiet acknowledgement. “Ben.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you for the continued support I've received so far on this little fic of mine. It's heartwarming and heartening in light of what, I imagine, a lot of us are feeling right now...**
> 
> **For those who haven't read this story before, I have...fairly conflicting thoughts about the characterization of Luke in the new trilogy. Thus, he may not be much like the 'canon' version from the new films in this story, but I didn't necessarily feel like the creators got him right to begin with, so I'm wrestling with the portrayal we got and how to rectify it for myself. Just something to be aware of.**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

****

**Chapter 3**

_“Toil without song is like a weary journey without an end.”_  
―H.P. Lovecraft

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

From the control centre on Proclamation’s Star base, Kylo Ren watched with suppressed trepidation as the Millennium Falcon vanished into deep space, carrying his heart aboard with it. Well, perhaps not _this_ heart—blackened and spoiled by so many wrongdoings, swallowed by Darkness and spit back out again—but the better half of that blemished heart, invisible to all in this part of the galaxy, travelled with them. He hoped Rey and Amidala could sense it, faint as its beat may be.

There was room for a speckle of hope. Family had brought that to him. _She_ had returned to him that belief through the gift of love.

From what he could secretly pick up on from the Force, his wife and children were on board and accounted for. That was of little relief, however, for three tie fighters had been deployed from base and were en-route. The leading pilot’s voice buzzed over the intercom, reporting that they were about to make the jump to Lightspeed and follow the Millennium Falcon’s trail.

That meant only one thing to Kylo: Rey and the children weren’t in the clear yet. His hands balled into fists and his breathing grew more and more erratic as each second ticked by, audible only to those who happened to be within earshot. Any nearby crew, who misinterpreted the warrior’s tense body language to mean an explosion was brewing, made to cower or shuffle out of harm’s way. No one desired to be the unfortunate punching bag once Kylo Ren finally unleashed his vicious temper.

“ _I want them alive_!” Kylo vaguely heard General Hux growl to a seated control operator. Issuing several sputtering huffs, the scruffy, overweight, redheaded commander paced at the front of the highest level of the control centre, passing behind Kylo’s immobile silhouette that stared determinedly out the window. The general ground his teeth as they awaited more news from their tie fighters, with his chubby hands clasped behind his back and sweat sprinkling his forehead.

 _A damn fool_. Kylo ignored him.

General Hux’s emotional outbursts and desperate strategies to catch Kylo’s family hadn’t changed much since the fall of the First Order—a humiliating, crushing blow to the power-hungry leader of their political organisation—they had merely made him more determined, though increasingly reckless and less competent, than his younger years had afforded him. He was a loose cannon nowadays, flighty, easily rattled and irritable, not to mention in relatively poor health. Years of constant stress and working around-the-clock for a Supreme Leader whose thirst was never satisfied would do that to you.

Kylo understood that all too well.

It was a miracle that Snoke hadn’t done away with Hux yet, as far as Kylo was concerned. Then again, he had a hunch that Snoke and Hux might be in on some beneficial arrangement that he wasn’t privy to. It was the only rational motive for keeping the general around, despite all his failures in the past to lead their militia to victory against the Resistance; or to deliver Rey and their children to Snoke.

 _That_ was Kylo Ren’s persistent, most terribly grave misstep to date as well, an unfortunate shortcoming his master showed no leniency in making him pay for over and over again. He had yet to deliver the one Jedi his master desired above all others—or her ‘bothersome offspring’, who, too, had captured his ghoulish, bottomless curiosity—but they, also, terrified him and Kylo sensed that fear. The one person who posed the greatest threat to their plan to rule the galaxy had conceived not one child but three and Snoke recognised, through his own substantial Force-sensitive connections, that the eldest, Amidala, was gifted in the ways of the Force, much to Kylo’s horror.

Thus far, Kylo and Rey had been dealt a fortunate hand. Snoke hadn’t made any connection to his long-standing apprentice and ‘the girl’, as Rey was only referred to by the Proclamation. To the Supreme Leader, she wasn’t worthy of a name nor were her children.

The fact that Kylo was still alive, having not turned over his family in what had been a years-long pursuit, was remarkable, too, most especially to the commander himself. He could only surmise that his exceptional Force gifts, as well as the unshakable loyalty he had shown to his master, the First Order, and, subsequently, the Proclamation time and time again, were what kept him from having his food poisoned or being assassinated in his sleep.

So long as Kylo Ren was useful, he wasn’t expendable. So long as he continued to show his trustworthiness would he not be left out in the cold—well, not entirely. So long as he continued to pursue ‘the girl’ and the ‘offspring’, he had a chance at staying alive. And he _would_ tread that perilous, threadbare line to the end, so long as it meant keeping the Supreme Leader from what he so desired, and what Kylo Ren—Ben Solo—cherished above all else in this world: his family. If Snoke wanted to take them, he would have to pry every one of them from his apprentice’s cold, dead hands.

“We’re losing them!” came the lead pilot’s sudden transmission over the intercom.

General Hux spat several colourful words and grabbed the nearest operator by the cuff of his dress shirt, yanking him out of his seat. “BLAST THEM, YOU IDIOT!”

Kylo turned his head, watching, waiting. This was a treat. At least, he might derive some personal enjoyment from what had been two extremely horrendous days of witnessing his family suffering under the enemy’s torments by observing one of Hux’s more embarrassing public breakdowns.

“But – But, sir,” the poor operator stuttered, “if we – we strike too hard, we risk killing the captives—”

“I know that, you insignificant fool! Give the order! Tell them that they are not to return here without the fugitives _intact_!”

Hux threw the scrawny operator back into his chair. The unfortunate lad fumbled to strap his headset and microphone back on top of his head, shaking all the while, and stammered Hux’s command into the mic.

A few seconds later and a more frantic report reached them from the leading pilot’s cockpit. “Sir, we can’t get to them without taking out three of their four—”

Hux leaned down, ripped the mic from the operator’s ear, and screamed into it, “FIND A WAY, YOU IMBECILES; OR CONSIDER YOURSELVES EXPENDABLE!”

From behind his mask, Kylo Ren allowed the thinnest, gleeful smirk to glide across his mouth. This day hadn’t turned into total fodder after all. Rey and the children were safe, skidding farther and farther outside of the Dark Side’s clutches, and Hux looked like he was about to be sick, cry, or faint. Perhaps, if Kylo Ren was lucky, the general might succumb to all three.

_My luck is never that fortunate._

_‘I require you,’_ a raspy voice suddenly summoned from afar, its familiarity one that regularly invoked dread, uncertainty, and terror, even for its assumed most faithful servant.

Kylo straightened and answered, _‘Yes, my master.’_ He left Hux to stew over their lost fugitives and headed for his ship.

_No. My luck is never so fortunate._

* * *

**One and a Half Years Earlier**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

“Mother.”

Ben inclined forward to embrace the esteemed general with warmth, wondering if he would ever grow accustomed to the much fiercer hug he received in return. She may have been a small woman whose height stopped at his chest, but her hold on him was strong for someone of her stature. When Ben reared back, she was beaming up at him, ethereal brown eyes welling with unshed tears. She was nearly always brought to tears when she saw him…and he never failed to comprehend why.

_‘I couldn’t come back.’_

_‘Because I failed you, my son. My boy.’_

How, for a time, had he forgotten how beautiful she was? That caring, natural affection that so earnestly stared up at him—a mother’s unbreakable love that he was certain he would never glimpse again upon his return to the Light, and how could he have blamed her had she denied him forgiveness?—still caused him unspeakable awe…and pain. He did his best to ignore the pangs her nurturing energy often enforced on his heart.

How vicious a struggle it surely must have been for his mother to smile again; to laugh; to find a scrap of a reason to carry on in this life? He had never had the heart to ask her about her struggles. It was probably for the best, really; the subject matter was too damaging to revisit, like throwing salt on an old wound.

Looking into her eyes, though, Ben was reminded of all the joy he was responsible of robbing her of over the long years he had been away. The guilt crippled him—enormously—and would have very well consumed his soul were it not for Rey. _Rey_. She had taught him how to cope with his guilt; how to move past the overpowering anguish that came with regret, shame, and loss. Yet, learning to forgive himself was a daily strife and with his mother, one of a handful of sore remembrances for past reprehensible mistakes.

Ben reeled in his guilt-laden thoughts, not wishing to grant them attention, particularly in her presence. She would only sense the gross misery that accompanied him and he had no desire to ruin this visit with any of his own personal woes.

“I was beginning to worry,” she said, speaking low in the hopes that her grandson wouldn’t overhear. She needn’t have worried, however. Han was happily occupying himself with the 3D solar system map the general and her militia had been inspecting, a system Ben was well-acquainted with but for which his son was not. He and Leia watched as Han hammered her staff with question after question, running from spot to spot on the map and itching to know more about the unknown coordinates.

“I’m sorry,” Ben apologised and bowed his head, regaining her attention. A few dark hairs swept over his equally dark eyes. “I was…delayed,” was all he gave by way of an explanation. Her smile faltered. She understood the truth behind his tardiness and didn’t pry for details, as if the knowledge would only bring her physical harm to know. “I stopped at home first to see Rey. And Han’s been wanting to fly together again for weeks so…”

At that, Leia’s smile rebounded. “I’m glad you brought him. I know how important it is to you and Rey that he feels involved in our efforts.”

Ben allowed his lips to crack the slightest smile. “He and Astrid hear enough talk of the Force at home. They deserve certain attentions of their own.”

“Of course,” Leia readily concurred and stole a loving glance for her charming grandson. “How’s Ami? Astrid?”

“They’re well.”

“And Rey?” she pressed, to which Ben considered how to answer for a short pause.

“Frustrated.”

“Aren’t we all?” Leia let forth a ponderous sigh, the gravity of that reply steering their conversation towards a far more serious topic that both had been dancing around since Ben’s arrival. Her voice lowered once more. “I assume he sent for you?”

Ben’s nod was quick and self-effacing. “Yes.”

“Did he tell you anything? Anything useful?”

“No, I’m afraid not. He spoke mostly of…Rey and Ami.” The reminder of his and the Supreme Leader’s last conversation left a sour taste in Ben’s mouth. He willed it away.

“Nothing of his plans?” His mother’s eyes took on more desperation. “Nothing of where he’s harbouring this new weapon of his?”

“No, and I can’t afford to prod it out of him. He senses everything; it’s too risky.”

“Then, perhaps, you shouldn’t…”

Ben raised his chin, suspecting where Leia was headed with that unfinished thought. The caution that marred the graceful, aged lines on her face, too, gave every reservation away she had been trying to withhold from him.

Ben’s temperament rose, simmering towards anger and resentment, though he tried to squash those feelings out of existence. He knew how to channel them into positive energy—towards light, patience, and understanding—but denying the bad chemistry only made him feel worse. He reminded himself that he was far too exhausted right now for another row with his mother.

“No,” he managed through a clenched jaw, “I can’t.”

“Ben—”

“He’s only _now_ beginning to let me in again. It won’t be long before I’ll have something; something compromising that the Resistance can use against him. You have to give me more time.”

“ _Time_ ,” Leia lamented, issuing another one of her sad, begrudging sighs that unnerved him. “Time is working against us, Ben. Even now, the enemy expands across the galaxy, reforging its strength and buying it’s time for war. Time, Ben, is something _we don’t have_ …”

Ben started to retort but the words that slipped out weren’t what he intended nor what Leia expected to hear. “You don’t think I can deliver on my promise.” There was a pause, an uncomfortable bout of silence that followed. _Of course she doesn’t_ , he deduced, with bitter ire. How had he been such a clod as to think his mother would actually trust him to do something _right_ for once?

Ben’s emotions flared again, flashes of seething red and outrage passing behind his eyelids. He tried to diffuse their power and provocation, but they wouldn’t go so willingly. To make matters worse, Leia hadn’t jumped to speak to the contrary. The forthright emotions playing out on her face confirmed the unpleasant words he hadn’t meant to utter aloud: ‘You don’t think I can deliver on my promise.’

“Ben,” she started, choosing her words carefully, “Snoke’s monstrous hold on you last time was…detrimental. You spent years recouping and coming back from that Darkness. I… I never wanted you to take this role on in the first place and neither did Rey, but you insisted.”

“Just say it,” he interrupted, his tone now oozing with repressed acrimony.

Leia hesitated, and her eyes turned watery once more, their expression beseeching the son whom she dearly loved to hear her reasoning. “I _do_ believe in you, Ben—I _always_ have, you know that—but… I just don’t think you should do this anymore.” At receiving her son’s stone-cold glare of a reaction, Leia moved closer to touch his arm; he flinched. “It’s taking too long, Ben. How much longer can we afford to wait?” She added an emphatic, “It’s _not_ your fault.”

Those words were meaningless to him, though. He whisked his arm forcefully from her grasp and shot her a heated, wounded stare, though Leia didn’t back down. She stepped into his personal space, sensing the volatile emotions whirling about him, wanting to play—thirsting to get the better of the son she had once feared lost to their debilitating influence forever—and pleaded, “We all knew it would take a miracle for Snoke to fully trust you again, including you. You’ve done everything you possibly could, Ben. No one’s blaming you. We’re so grateful—”

“Are you dismissing me?” he snarled, shooting the general—his mother—an affronted glare that made her cringe.

“No, my son, I just think you should consider pulling back from the leash that demon has on you.”

“So, you _are_ dismissing me—”

“ _Before it’s too late_!” She chanced a glance at Han, hoping the boy hadn’t just overheard her; he was still otherwise engaged in discussions with her military personnel, however.

“You forget, _Mother_ ,” cautioned Ben, his tone containing a certain level of sarcasm that recaptured Leia’s attention, “it _is_ too late. I cannot go back.”

Leia opened her mouth to respond but the words had gone, evaporating like smoke on the tip of her tongue. The air felt stifling and frigid, the finality of Ben’s remark chilling her to the quick and sucking the very oxygen from her lungs. She didn’t want to believe it—that her precious Ben, who had wrestled so hard to come back to her, had only one choice before him: a precarious, potentially fatal path that she and others had allowed him to set in motion—and yet, there was no denying his resigned determination nor the quiet, insistent will of the Force that whispered of the same journey in her ear. Its message wasn’t a comfort: her son’s role was set. Whether the Resistance received anything useful out of Kylo Ren’s assiduous efforts to regain Snoke’s confidence, his efforts would continue, with or without her support.

“Go home, Ben,” she begged, trying to control the sudden quiver from her bottom lip. She patted his arm and held onto him tightly, despite his attempts to move away from her a second time. “Please… Go home and rest. Rey and I can take care of things from here. Luke, too.”

“ _Luke_?!” Ben shocked her by throwing back his head and laughing, but it wasn’t laughter at all; it was something akin to a choking, loathsome contempt. He hardly noticed the various pairs of eyes that had settled upon him and Leia, curiosity luring them towards the argument that was unfolding between General Organa and her most trusted spy. “You actually expect _him_ to provide the Resistance with what it needs to defeat Snoke?”

“Ben—”

“Don’t hold your breath, Mother. Luke’s become as secretive and suspicious as our enemies.”

Leia reared back. “That’s harsh, Ben. He’s your uncle.”

“And the brother who abandoned you when you needed him most!” he threw back at her, the fury building from within having reached his intense, murky eyes. “Rey had to beg him to come back to you. _Beg_! And, even then, he didn’t want to fight! He still doesn’t want to fight; the old goat believes in _nothing_!”

Leia wanted to contend her son’s coarse words about her brother, particularly with the unwanted audience they now had listening in who were depending on her and her family to offer them hope, not discouragement; but the altercation between her and Ben had turned personal. She laid a hand on Ben’s cheek to soundlessly plead with him to calm down, to really look at her. He fought to still under her touch but within moments, the disconcerting outrage swarming in those tortured eyes finally lapsed. The trembles subsided as well.

Only once she was certain Ben was gazing upon her as himself again did Leia speak, and this time in an urgent whisper, “This is not a war between you and your uncle, do you hear? The moment we turn on each other, we lose. Enough of this, Ben. I spoke out of turn before; I shouldn’t have asked you to stop what you’re doing. The mother in me just worries about you and wants you to be safe, all right? Don’t hate me for it.”

Ben was brought up short by those words. “I… I don’t,” he assured her. A relieved Leia leaned in to embrace him whilst the last of his anger receded. “I… I’m sorry, too,” he added once he had mollified his emotions. He caught a glimpse of Han out of the corner of his eye, who was staring at his father and grandmother with confusion and concern, and briskly drew out of Leia’s arms. “We should go.”

Leia was unable to mask her disappointment but understood it to be the best course. She didn’t like the way her son was looking these days—haggard and pale and clearly overworked—and it was obvious that their short but vehement disagreement was taking further toll on him. She scanned him over with care and her hand found purchase again against Ben’s right cheek. Worn, slightly cool fingers stroked the ridges of the scar that jutted diagonally across his skin; she hardly saw that scar anymore. She started to reiterate her plea from earlier, but Ben, in anticipation of the words, took Leia’s hand in his and offered a soft, “I will.”

Somewhat reassured, Leia allowed Ben to kiss the top of her head and call to his son. Han skipped over to Leia, threw his arms around her, and sped off to keep pace with his father’s much wider strides. Her consolation floundered once her son and grandson were out of sight.

There could be no rest for Kylo Ren. Hopefully, with any luck, there might be respite in Ben Solo’s future.

* * *

_“You’re not concentrating.”_

_“I’m_ trying _,” Rey griped out of one corner of her mouth, barely moving her lips. She kept her eyes closed, listening to the Force around her, and detected her master sighing not far off. She had no idea why, though. If she was mucking things up, he wasn’t providing her any guidance or direction. Instead, as per what had become his usual manner of communication (or lack thereof), he was leaving the girl to flounder of her own accord and guesswork._

_In fact, all her master seemed to ever do since Rey had arrived on this god-awful, remote planet one month ago was offer the occasional criticism regarding her stance, where her mind wandered, or how she wielded a lightsaber. Anything else, including any talk about her personally, and the old man was decidedly mute; or, she supposed, he didn’t care and had lost any level of decorum when it came to interacting with another human being._

_Without a doubt, though, Luke Skywalker was an oddball. Rey thought he might, at least, ‘look’ the part of a legend whose remarkable story had been passed down from generation to generation across the farthest reaches of the galaxy. This unshaven, ruffled, somewhat maddening individual didn’t resemble the great Jedi warrior who had brought down the whole of the Galactic Empire._

_Han Solo may not have been a Jedi or brought down Darth Vader with the stroke of a ligthtsaber, but he_ had _carried himself like the fabled hero Rey heard mentioned about, like a whisper on the wind—that roguish outlaw turned soldier, aged by salt and pepper hair, whose deeply-etched life lines confirmed the extraordinary rumours that turned out to be very much his story._

_Luke Skywalker, on the other hand… Well, he was just another enigma to be figured out, but thinking on her master only served to aggravate her, and reflecting on Han Solo fuelled Rey’s heart to gall and anguish, seeping into her veins like a poison, so Rey tried to push all feeling away. Evidently, she wasn’t trying hard enough, for the two-ton stones she had been stacking on top of each other with her mind toppled to the ground, meeting gravity with a great thud, and so did she._

_“Damn it!” she spat and opened her eyes._

_Much to her dismay, Master Luke was leaning against other stacked stones that were acting as a convenient wall from whence to observe. He appeared to be put out by her blunder; or, perhaps, he was simply bored. Rey didn’t care. He was suddenly the last person in the world she wanted to be around, so she spun on her heel and stalked off towards the ocean._

_“Attachment leads to suffering,” he called after her, halting the Padawan learner in her tracks._

_Maybe it was the emotionless tone with which he so frankly spoke of someone she had very quickly come to regard like a father—or maybe she had just grown tired of how irritatingly vague and unhelpful he was—but whichever side she settled for, Rey snapped. She whipped her head around and stared the Jedi down, unapologetic in the tears that now coated her cheeks. “He was supposedly your friend, and your brother-in-law, and_ that _‘s your response?”_

_It was the first indirect reference to Han Solo the two were having since Rey first came to the island. She had an inkling that Master Luke already knew Han was gone when she had arrived; there was no need to declare it, unless he asked for confirmation. Yet, there was no request for elaboration on his part. Rey thought he might, at the very least, wish to know how his sister was coping with the loss of her husband, but Master Luke hadn’t so much as asked after her either._

_Even now Master Luke’s face was unresponsive, aloof. He merely repeated his message to her again, “Attachment leads to suffering. You must learn to detach your emotions from others, from what is the natural way of things.”_

_“‘The natural way of things’?”_

_Rey could hardly believe her ears. She blinked back tears that abruptly stung her eyes; or was it Master Luke’s lack of empathy towards someone who should have meant something to both of them that was causing her blood to boil? “He’s DEAD!” she choked out, hands sweeping to her sides, as if that would help drive the point home. “He died by his son’s own hand, murdered in cold blood by Kylo Ren’s lightsaber! Is_ that _the ‘natural way of things’, I wonder?”_

_Master Luke didn’t respond, only stared at her for a while, eyes introspective but evasive. Unsurprisingly, his thoughts blocked hers. He ended his bit of meditation and turned his back, he and his walking stick making their way down a deep hillside and out of sight._

_Rey threw up her hands in resignation and dropped to the ground, landing in a mess of sobs and mud. She wanted to scream, throw something, perhaps, hurl one of those two-ton stones at Master Luke’s head and watch him roll the rest of the way down the other side of the island and into the sea. ‘Steady, Rey,’ her conscience warned._

_It wasn’t like her to have violent thoughts. She hadn’t even let her emotions spiral this out of control since… Well, since fighting Kylo Ren in that snow-covered forest at Starkiller base._

_‘Kylo Ren.’ Rey furiously wiped at her wet cheeks. She had been trying not to think of him; he didn’t deserve a space or a home in her head. She hated him. Hatred wasn’t supposed to be attached to any part of a Jedi’s character, but Rey couldn’t help it. If there was one person in all the galaxy who had earned her malice, and plenty of others’ as well, it was Kylo Ren._

_‘Or Ben Solo…’_

_The name made her shudder. And nauseous. Han Solo’s and Leia Organa’s own son! How had two such good-hearted people given birth to such a monster? How had she stared into the cold-hearted, lifeless eyes of their child and not been able to spot so much as a glimmer of their grace?_

_‘Simple. They_ can’t _be related.’_

_Of course, that wasn’t the truth, but she felt better denying it on principle. Ben Solo may have been Han’s and Leia’s son at one time, but it was like the wretched fiend himself had told his father on that bridge right before he ran his cross-saber through the hero’s chest: that son was ‘gone’, replaced by Kylo Ren. There could be no Solo left in such a soulless heathen. No way, no how._

_“You’re a monster,” Rey reiterated aloud to the darkness, just as she had to Kylo Ren at Starkiller base the day she fought him and won. “You. Are. A. Monster.”_

Rey’s sight fluttered into focus. An overly excited Astrid was tugging at her hand, demanding that she stand up. “Mummy! Mummy!” she apparently was shouting and had been for several seconds. “They’re back, Mummy! They’re back!”

Rey traced her daughter’s thrilled pointing to the back of the hut, where two familiar faces were entering the premises: Master Luke and Amidala. She smiled encouragingly to her youngest and Astrid rushed out the back door to greet them first.

Rey held back from joining them a moment longer, for her smile fell as she turned away from the doorway, not wishing to gaze upon her master just yet; the one who, for good or ill, was and would remain irrevocably linked to her and Ben.

An apprehensive frown emerged and it wouldn’t be so easily removed. It was in private moments such as these when Rey found herself sometimes regretting having asked Master Luke to train their daughter. Those upsetting, distant memories—and, often times, accompanying unpleasant emotions—the Jedi’s presence could trigger in Rey shook her to her core, as was the present case.

Paralysed in the middle of her kitchen, Rey gathered her wits, seeking that relaxed, quiet centre she knew well, and pressed the last of the memory from her mind. The grisly hatred she had once felt towards the man she now loved with every fiber of her being wasn’t welcomed here.

 _Ben_. It had been Ben who had helped her to tackle those viler emotions that sometimes prickled her soul, despite the ever-present abundance of Light that followed and embraced her wherever she went.

 _It was a long time ago_ , she told herself as she walked towards Master Luke and Amidala at last, _and he was so different then. You both were._

_Times have changed._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : I will continue to be posting chapters pretty regularly until this story is caught up to where I am currently in the writing process. Thanks to the few who are commenting and leaving kuddos. Your expression of interest makes all the difference. **
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

****

**Chapter 4**

_“I would enter your sleep if I could, and guard you there, and slay the thing that hounds you, as I would if it had the courage to face me in fair daylight. But I cannot come in unless you dream of me.”_  
― Peter S. Beagle

* * *

_“Concentrate, Ami. Feel its will. Don’t think so hard.”_

_“Mum,_ stop _,” her daughter droned and brought her eyebrows together in frustration; unfortunately, she was unconsciously driving the negatives of the Force closer to her rather than farther, “you’re distracting me.”_

_Rey smirked, watching the ten-year old give one of her more dramatic huffs. She squeezed her eyes shut and shimmied about on her bottom to sit up straighter and refocus. The intense, albeit exasperated, look marring her young features echoed of the girl’s father to the point of uncanniness. It gave her mother pause and reasoning for a long, measured consideration._

_Amidala was so much like Ben that connecting the dots was easy. Both in physicality and in personality, she was lanky and considerably tall for her age, with wavy black locks and near onyx-tinted eyes that were set off by a predominantly long nose and full lips. Her features might be considered more ‘sharp’ than delicate, alluring but in a ‘handsome’ way rather than dainty and feminine, though_ _Rey considered some of that_ her _contribution to Amidala’s genetic makeup as well._

_Rey had never deemed herself particularly ‘feminine’ in appearance. She was physically and mentally strong, fit as any healthy man, and more than capable of looking after herself, as she had done so sufficiently for nearly twenty years before discovering the Force. Amidala, too, was leaning towards those physical and mental attributes, remarkably self-sufficient, especially for a ten-year old, and a bit of a loner who derived enjoyment from figuring things out on her own. Ben and Rey had been astonished by her skills with a lightsaber the first time she used one around age seven. For a fresh Padawan learner just finding her footing, she was ‘advanced’, according to her father. Even Master Luke had to contend with his nephew, validating that Ben hadn’t been able to wield some of the moves Amidala was completing in practice ’till he had been older than her._

_As parents, the Solos prided themselves on their daughter’s astonishing accomplishments…and privately worried for her; but for all her flourishing and exceptional growth, Amidala was still a child and, with that, came its own set of challenges. Their eldest would soon be entering her teens, but she already had plenty of Ben’s moodiness to keep them company. Her emotions flared and fluctuated often, tirelessly wavering between happiness and tears, grievances and ill-controlled anger._

_Today, she was in one of her stable-er frames of mind, but as Rey knew all too well,_ anything _could tip the scales. She smartly shut her mouth and allowed a testy Amidala to concentrate._

_The Padawan soon stilled on the floor in front of her, her eyelids rotating and lashes fluttering. Her mind soon engaged with the surrounding energy whilst Rey remained in a cross-legged position opposite her, collected and centred but acting the part of passive observer. She, too, detected the darker aspects of the Force at work, though with her eyes open, as they plucked curiously at Amidala’s mind, trying to appeal to the girl’s sensitivities. It wasn’t necessarily sinister—the Dark Side only ever fully illustrated its raw strength when a Sith-prone being already inclined to its disposition was near a Jedi; or able to penetrate a far weaker-minded individual at greater distance—but so far, Amidala had proven herself sufficient in combating its influence, though she had only ever gotten a taste of its pungent flavour._

_That didn’t mean the protective streak in Rey didn’t crave to swat it from the room whenever it chose to appear. It was usually at its worst when Ben first came home after an intense period away at Proclamation’s Star base, playing to the Darkness’ commands and acting the faithful role of Kylo Ren to Supremer Leader Snoke. Some of that Darkness could loiter, drifting in and out of their home at random, despite Ben’s utmost efforts to keep its influence at a distance. Its presence normally dwindle over the hours but sometimes it proved itself more persistent and feisty than at others._

_Today, Rey understood that she_ had _to allow Amidala to make the call. It was a part of her Jedi training, after all; an ongoing test in becoming a capable Knight of the Light. Sometimes her daughter invited the Darkness in a little, if only to assuage her curiosity, and sometimes she denied it the moment it turned up._

_This morning was a tossup, apparently. Amidala’s intrigue over its presence wavered, dithering forwards and back, hesitation mixed with daringness churning towards a decision that might satisfy. Rey awaited the outcome, with somewhat baited breath._

_All of a sudden, Amidala flinched, feeling the faintest tapping on the back of her head that shouldn’t be there. “It’s…insistent,” she confided to her mother, a hint of uncertainty seeping through her voice. She bore her teeth and commanded it to return to the centre, towards the beacon of Light that spun contentedly between the two females, where, naturally, it had no desire to dwell. It panicked and fought back, pushing against the young Padawan’s will._

_“Be strong,” Rey urged her, sensing its fight. “You know what it wants. Deny it.”_

_“I’m…trying…” Amidala’s breathing accelerated. “Mum…so – something’s wrong…”_

_Rey’s confidence waned the more she witnessed the struggle forming on Amidala’s concentrated face. The girl was applying her entire body now to cast out the negative energy, which had grown considerably in mere seconds, for her arms were held up in front of her, shaking, and beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead. Her eyes were still closed, but they rotated faster than before._

_The air was becoming too thick, forcing Rey’s adrenaline to kick in. Her uneasiness with how rapidly matters were spiralling out of control weren’t ill-founded either._ No… _The hairs on the back of her neck rose to attention and she found herself whispering into the void for her husband, “Ben…”_

_Rey gradually turned her head, her reservations brutally confirmed by his presence. Ben was standing in the doorway, for how long she knew not but he had evidently been watching their training session. Distress was written into the harsh lines that shaped his face and, with the confirmation he tried to communicate to Rey non-verbally, the energy turned on an axis, whirling out of order._

_The Darkness stretched its power, hissing like a coiling snake about to lunge and go on the attack, and then it reached for Amidala with boldness and aggression. Amidala jumped back and opened her eyes, just as Rey, who reacted on instinct, thwarted it like a parent might slap a misbehaving child’s hand. It turned on the girl, challenged by Rey’s unwanted interference, and made a rush for her and Ben instead, deciding to toy with its more experienced provocateurs._

_Rey’s defences were up, so it took minimal effort to keep the Darkness from gaining vigour and penetrating her space. It tired of her shields rather quickly and moved onto Ben, hyper aware of the one person in the room who would be most inclined to bend to its will._

_Amidala startled, though she felt incapable of moving otherwise, as if each limb had become one with the floor. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, and yet, the Darkness’ thirst charged like a tornado: it_ knew _her father, assessing him like an old friend, and intended to retrieve something from him; something that would affect them all._

_Ben stumbled sideways and latched onto the wall, in need of something for purchase to maintain his balance. His eyes pinched shut, a series of petrifying images roaming over his sight, intent upon showing him visions—indescribable horrors—that made him want to crawl out of his own skin: Rey slipping away in the darkness, fighting helplessly against the shadows that closed in on her and suctioned the Light—and life—out of her poor, frail-turned body, until her screams went silent and still; Astrid crying out to him as the Darkness electro-shocked her tiny, defenceless form, until she was limp and lifeless; Han gasping as he tried to outrun a fiery red cross-saber that struck him in the back, knocking him to the ground where he no longer drew breath; Amidala bowing before an imposing creature who appeared more wraith-like than living and declaring her undying loyalty to his service…_

_“_ BEN _!”_

_Ben jerked and his eyes rolled back into focus. Why was his voice hoarse; had he been howling…or had that all been in his head? The room was rotating far too fast, the terribly vivid, gut-wrenching images of his family being tortured and killed fresh in his pounding heart._

I think I’m going to be sick _, was the last thought Ben had before he staggered forward, knocked straight into Rey’s arms, and sunk like an anchor to the ground._

_The next moment Ben came to, Rey had his face cradled between her palms and was lightly smacking his cheeks to stir him awake. Somehow, he had managed to land on his knees but passed out, for how long he wasn’t certain. Rey’s Light was with him, though, bathing him in its peace and security, swaddling his soul like one of Astrid’s nap-time blankets._

_Ben could sense that the Darkness had gone, but a hefty, strained silence had descended upon the room, lingering. If Rey and Amidala had exchanged any words in the interim that he was out cold, they weren’t talking now, and Ben wasn’t the only one breathing hard and unwilling to so much as blink for fear of enticing the putrid images to return. Their appearance had immobilised them all, making everyone too stricken to move._

_It would seem the silence became too great for Amidala, who, at last, stammered out, in a choked whisper from where she still sat on the floor a few feet away, “Wha – What just happened?”_

_Slowly, Rey turned to her daughter. The colour had all but drained from the poor girl’s face, her large, inky-coloured eyes darting from mother to father and back again, demanding and, at the same time, afraid of the answer they might supply._

_“Nothing, Ami,” Rey managed, though her quivering voice betrayed her; she still held Ben’s face in her hands. “Just… Just nightmares. Yes, nightmares. That was all.”_

_Rey locked eyes on Ben and eventually relinquished her grip. Her hands came to rest on top of his trembling arms. Over time, both his breathing and the shaking eased under her pacifying touch, but the mirroring expression of terror they both wore wouldn’t leave._

_Amidala watched her parents’ exchange, trapped in her own petrified contemplations. Whatever silent messages were being transmitted between them, Amidala wasn’t permitted to hear, but she could sense with all of her shrewd instincts that they, too, were frightened and that whatever they had all witnessed wasn’t mere ‘nightmares’ but…something else; something far more sinister than they were letting on._

* * *

**(Cont.) – One and a Half Years Before the Family’s Escape from Procalamation’s Star Base**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

“Dad?” Han chanced piping up, fighting to keep pace with his father’s rapid-driven steps. “Is everything all right?”

“Hmm? Yes, Han, everything’s fine,” Ben dismissed the boy’s inquiry, perhaps, a touch too harshly. He slowed his gait to allow Han to catch up just as they reached the bottom step outside of Resistance’s headquarters. They headed to the right and strolled towards their awaiting starfighter. “Ready the ship, won’t you? We need to get back to your mother and sister.”

Han nodded, though he eyed his father sidelong, still highly suspicious over the troublesome conversation he had glimpsed between Ben and his grandmother. He hoped it was nothing serious, but his instincts told him otherwise. His father looked tired, distracted, and put off by whatever words had been exchanged which only heightened his reckoning that it must have something to do with his father’s involvement in the Resistance.

 _That_ was another mystery unto itself Han hadn’t fully uncovered. Yet.

Han’s short legs broke into a sprint. His father obviously had no interest in sharing the details of his and General Organa’s conversation, so there was little point in attempting to pry…for now. Maybe he might have better luck unearthing more about what had gone down later on when his father was in better spirits.

Ben, on the other hand, ceased walking, allowing his son to forge ahead towards the hanger. He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if to ward off an impending headache. _She wants me to_ quit _? How in the hell does she even think that’s possible at this stage?_ Ben snorted and rubbed a hand down his severely drawn face, annoyed. _As if I could! Kylo Ren would be the most hunted man in the galaxy. And how would_ that _be intuitive to keeping my family safe, Mother?_

Ben sighed long and hard, watching from afar as Han’s floppy, brown mop of hair entered the cockpit and bounded about inside, preparing their ship for take-off. He hoped his son hadn’t overheard too much. He and his sisters were so innocent, so naïve to the growing dangers worsening around them, and holding off that adult-like awareness was, to Ben and Rey, vital. Their children had a general sense of the growing unrest, of course, but as far as Ben was concerned—and to a lesser extent, Rey—it was more than acceptable that they remain tuned out to much of the threatening Darkness spreading across the galaxy. No need to pull them into the upsetting knowledge that their world was fit to collapse until it was absolutely necessary. If their luck prevailed, this war might end before it began.

 _Amidala, however…_ Ben’s chest constricted, his hypersensitive considerations turning to his eldest. These days she was getting a much better picture of the treacherous state of the galaxy—she was a Jedi-in-training, after all, with a number of questions on her intuitive brain of late that hinted at such—and where it was likely headed: in the wrong direction.

As long as any future enlightenment from his children didn’t include knowledge of his own role in this fight then Ben figured he could come to grips with their eventual awareness; of the loss to that precious unworldliness their young lives currently enjoyed.

After all, it was only a matter of time before fun-loving Han and credulous, little Astrid recognised the Darkness for what it was; for what they _all_ were potentially facing. _But, hopefully, not too soon…_

A delicate breeze picked up, fluttering, caressing a thoughtful Ben like a sweet whisper. The wind lightly swept through his shoulder-length locks and Ben found himself turning his gaze to the left, towards a square-shaped, tall object of white marble that stood erect off to the side of headquarters’ establishment. He paused to acknowledge its call, for it tended to speak to him when he visited this safe haven. He had never failed to answer it in the past.

Ben’s legs strode closer, like a current glides with the ebb and flow of the tide, approaching the towering remembrance that had been assembled many years prior in tribute to his late father. The ordinary, though impressive, white stone dominated over his considerably tall frame by, at least, two to three feet, catching the faintest rays of sunlight that crept down to land. It shone brightest across the etching of the man’s name at its centre—Han Solo—and Ben unwittingly extended his fingers to sketch each letter.

He felt compelled to do so, as he had many a time before, his woeful senses reaching across that Great Divide that separated life from death to somehow reconnect. And he always wound up feeling foolish for his efforts.

How long had Ben been waiting for his father to pass through; to _speak_ to him? _To tell him how sorry I am…_ Ben found himself often on the cusp of connecting with the man, but his spirit always managed to allude him, fading in and out like floating memories, smoke and mirrors but nothing solid. _And why shouldn’t he?_ Ben would reason with his undue disappointment. The man was _dead_ because of him. He couldn’t blame his own father for not wanting to hang around the one person responsible for bringing an end to his life: his no-good, wretched son.

_Steady, Ben…_

‘Han Solo.’ He read the name over and over again. It looked so final, so complete engraved into that lifeless, dense marble. Below the name was a recording of Han’s date of birth, date of death, and a simple inscription: ‘Killed in the line of duty fighting for the Resistance. We will never forget your sacrifice.’

 _No… We most certainly will not._ That pondering wasn’t an acid one, merely a meditative reflection that harboured unremitting heartache and regret. _So much regret…_

Ben clenched his jaw and his hand slipped back to his side, unfulfilled and numbed. He both despised and valued this sacred spot, finding its presence a comfort and a curse that only he could fully understand. _As well you should… You’re responsible._

Ben felt the feeble sting that such rancid, ever-present reminders inflicted on his soul, but he kept decidedly mute about it. Waring with his conscience wouldn’t change these ill feelings he carried nor alter reality. He stared at the stone testament a while longer, lost in his thoughts and never detecting Han approaching from behind until the boy finally spoke.

“Dad?” Ben’s eyes flickered and turned to his son, now eying him over with fresh apprehension. “The ship’s ready.”

Ben nodded and, for another lingering moment, cast his attention back to his father’s monument. Young Han stepped forward to stand by his side, leaning into Ben’s arm and gazing up at his grandfather’s inscription. “I wish I could’ve known him,” the boy confessed, the purity in those words worsening Ben’s agony.

Ben brought his son into a warm embrace. “I wish you could’ve known him, too, Han…” A strange, thin tug on Ben’s free arm suggested that his father, wherever he was, may be concurring with the tragedy in his tortured son’s and guileless grandson’s confession. _And you would know him were it not for me…_

*******

Later that night, Ben stared into his wife’s beautifully open, kind face and released a burdensome sigh that, without words, she patiently disentangled. That understated but no less understanding reaction of hers strengthened in the form of a soft smile. That was nearly always Rey’s breathtaking response following a reading of the less contented workings of her husband’s mind; her reaction to his frequent, considerably darker thoughts, locked away in the most guarded recesses where invaders as skilled as Snoke had trouble penetrating, one of good-natured collectedness.

On this night, Ben was grateful that his wife showed little interest in delving farther into the more debilitating side of his thought process. Rey settled her head against her pillow, wavy, brunette locks fanning out all around her like a goddess, and her hands pulled Ben close, beckoning his brawny limbs to roll over top of hers. He did as she wordlessly commanded, allowing her delicate fingers to brush loving circles along his lower back, relaxing the sensitive flesh that stirred and awakened under her guiding touch. That instant connection consumed and aroused, its presence an irresistible beat.

Ben bent his neck to capture her lips, and the arduous, light energy that had been drifting around the edges of their intertwined bodies suddenly swelled, strengthened by the coming together of two fractured souls to form a complete whole. It’s brilliance left Ben momentarily short of breath.

After several moments, he reluctantly pulled back to draw in more air, taken aback by the exquisitely kindhearted look that now marked Rey’s face. “I love you,” he breathed into the darkness, giant arms looping tighter around her small, naked body. “You know that, don’t you?”

Rey blinked. “Of course I do. And I, you.” She inclined forward to skim his lips with her own. “Don’t be afraid,” she insisted, murmuring, and kissed him once more, though with more fervour, enticing his torn, grey life force to become one with hers.

“I’m not,” he confessed against her warm mouth, encourging another one of her sensational smiles that too often left him bereft.

“ _You feel me_.”

It was a statement, not a question, and one he would gladly rise to answer. “ _Yes_ …” he hummed and, closing his eyes, submitted. He _did_ feel her link, all of her grace and fervid regard, utterly, completely, and unequivocally.

Rey’s response was uniformly embracing and absolute. “ _And I, you_.”

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Deep Space)**

“Mum, they’re gaining on us!” Han frantically tapped at the decreasing odometer reading amidst the cockpit’s many buttons and apparatus. “Traction’s slowing us down!”

Rey fumbled to unbuckle her seatbelt. “Keep an eye on that odometer while I check out the hyperdrive!” She bolted out of sight and down a ladder to fiddle with the controls. That left Han to steer the Falcon on his own, as they sped through hyperspace trying to outrun three tie fighters who were closing in on their tail.

Amidala sat rigidly in her seat, feeling the inveigle of the Darkness gaining friction on them, and made a last ditch effort to meditate in order to keep it from coming any closer. Her attempts were proving rather futile.

To her left, Astrid whimpered at the alarming echos coming from the tie fighters’ blasts which hit their freighter over and over, causing the ship to rattle and quake. The power flickered on and off, escalating the suspense. Amidala reached over and grasped her sister’s hand, wishing to instil calm in the five-year old, but none of them could deny the peril of the situation and it seemed to be worsening by the second.

The children weren’t aware of holding their breaths until their mother suddenly shouted to them from down below, “What’s the odometer reading now?”

“Uhhh,” Han stalled, having taken his eyes off the meter when a particularly forceful blast sent the Falcon nearly spinning onto its side, “still slowing!”

From the control room, Rey uttered a curse word or two, but whatever she said after was lost amidst more heavy firing from the enemy. “I’m going to have to reset the hyperdrive!” Rey hollered to them, offering little good news to ease their nerves. “Just hang tight! Han, hit the safety lights!”

An abrupt, powerful blast had triggered an alarm and the Falcon was suddenly immersed in darkness. Han staggered to find the safety lights’ switch and turned it on as instructed, but the ship was now slowing to a crawl.

“ _You_!” he exclaimed to his sister in a panic, pointing determinedly at Amidala. “Go use one of the gunners!”

Amidala’s mouth dropped open, aghast. “Are you _mad_?”

“ _JUST DO IT_!”

Another vigorous hit from the tie fighters had them all fighting whiplash in their seats. Astrid began to cry and covered her face with her hands.

“All right, all right! _Fine_!” Amidala consented and, once the ship ceased shaking, unstrapped her seatbelt.

With trepidation, she wobbled her way out of the cockpit and down a level into one of the cramped gunner stations, taking a seat in its accompanying chair. She glanced over the contraption nervously, skimming its various buttons and features that she had no clue how to use, and fastened the accompanying headpiece to her head.

Han really _was_ off his rocker; she hadn’t any idea how to use this ruddy thing. The ins and outs of this family heirloom had long been her brother’s ‘thing’, not Amidala’s. She expected the gunner to jam and not work, for it wasn’t a part of the ship that got regular use, and her mother and father had never exactly taught her how to properly shoot down a spacecraft. That hadn’t seemed like a sensible lesson to teach one’s children, did it? In any case, there wasn’t a chance she would be able to take out one tie fighter, let alone _three_.

 _‘Trust your instincts, Ami,’_ a deep register unexpectedly spoke to her inside her head. Amidala’s spine stiffened and her heart thumped quicker in her chest. _‘Let them guide you. Feel it, don’t think.’_

 _Dad?_ she desperately wanted to respond but then one of the tie fighters zoomed into view, thrashing her senses back to her goal. She located the blast button, got herself into position, and began firing several rapid shots at the ship which dipped to the right and spun out of sight to evade her clutches. “Damn it!” she muttered in frustration.

“Keep going, Ami!” Ami spun her chair around just in time to catch her mother securing herself into the second gunner station on the opposite end of the Falcon. “Aim for their engines when they make to turn around!”

“They’re too fast!” Ami called over her shoulder, as another tie fighter flew to her left, just out of range. She fired a couple shots but he soon disappeared, his speed proving too advanced for her gunner to keep pace. She heard Rey begin launching an attack as well, perceiving how her mother was relying on the surrounding Force to guide her direction.

Amidala eased up on the controls and closed her eyes. Renounced to do as her father had instructed—or, so, she assumed that was who she had come into contact with moments earlier—the brilliant Padawan opened her sights and ears to the Force’s call, listening, trusting. It wasn’t long before her sharp hearing picked up on an approaching tie fighter. Before it appeared in range, her gunner was in position and ready to fire. She felt the energy bend to her determination, marrying her quick-thinking reflexes, and she began shooting before the tie fighter fully materialised into view.

In seconds, the spacecraft erupted into flames, the ship and its pilot evaporating into deep space. Amidala couldn’t stop herself from cheering. Rey joined in on her daughter’s rousing elation, though only momentarily, for their quest to bring down the remaining two tie fighters resumed.

A minute later Rey had successfully struck their second target. The third and final tie fighter kept eluding them for a time, however. Then it ceased firing altogether and disappeared. Neither Rey nor Amidala were convinced of its supposed vanishing act and held tightly to their controls.

“Han,” Rey called up to her son, hoping the boy could locate the pilot on the Falcon’s tracking system, “where’s that blasted third tie fighter?”

No one answered. Rey whirled around in her chair, as did Amidala, and mother and daughter’s pale faces matched an expression of dread.

Sudden scuffling from Han and terrifying cries from Astrid above reverberated and reached their ears. Rey leapt out of her seat in a flash, followed closely by Amidala, who chanced a passing glance out the window before joining her mother at the ladder. Much to her horror, there were, at least, ten more tie fighters now surrounding the Falcon, waiting and not attacking.

Her throat dropped into the pit of her stomach. This wasn’t good.

Rey snatched her daughter’s hand, for one of the tie fighter commanders abruptly appeared at the top of the ladder, along with four other unknown, masked faces that resembled Stormtroopers. They each carried heavy weaponry in their hands and Amidala surmised immediately that any attempts at overrunning them would be unwise, especially without establishing where her brother and sister were first.

 _‘Ben,’_ she sensed her mother’s desperate call to her father across the galaxy, _‘they have us…’_

Amidala’s heart sunk. They had been so close, so awfully close to leaving that grotesque Proclamation Star base behind. What would they do now? And what might her father face if the enemy uncovered that he had aided in their attempt at an escape? Did they already know?

To make matters worse, no immediate answer from her father came through. Amidala’s grip on her mother’s hand fastened when one of the enemy commanders ordered them none too kindly to ascend the ladder…or risk Han and Astrid being shot dead.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Happy Holidays...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

****

**Chapter 5**

_“But you, children of space, you restless in rest, you shall not be trapped nor tamed.”_  
―Kahlil Gibran

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Deep Space)**

Rey ground her teeth together at the eyesore that was a newly botched hole in the ceiling of their beloved Millennium Falcon, thanks to one of the damnable Proclamation’s aggressive transporters that had taken the family by surprise, storming their freighter at full speed. Before Rey or Amidala had been able to sense more of the enemy coming, the enormous, dense transporter had attached itself to the top of the faltering Falcon, blasted through its roof, and taken them captive.

Now, Rey and her eldest daughter found themselves being violently jostled by Stormtroopers searching for any hidden weaponry they might have on their persons. Unfortunately, their lightsabers were the first items confiscated from heir belts. The panic that swept across Amidala’s eyes, as she wildly glanced to her mother for counsel, worsened Rey’s own inner dread regarding their predicament.

It seemed that there was little to do but wait for an opportune moment to sneak away, though the odds were stacked against them. Sure, she and Amidala could fight without their lightsabers—Rey had little doubt her daughter would be of enormous help in taking out the ten to twelve Stormtroopers who had crammed themselves into the Falcon’s main hall—but a surprise attack likely wouldn’t get them far. As it was, they were drastically outnumbered, their freighter was surrounded by more heavily-armed tie fighters outside, the Falcon’s hyperdrive had failed them so outrunning the enemy would be futile, and Han and Astrid were already aboard the transporter, secured within the Stormtroopers’ clutches.

Rey heard Han hollering a number of insults at their captors for the dismal state they had put their trusty ship in. Astrid wept and cried for her mother.

“ _I’m here, kids_!” Rey shouted as loudly as her vocals would carry, earning her a sharp smack to the face by the leading Stormtrooper. Amidala startled at such brutality. When Rey’s sight came back into focus, she could taste blood on her upper lip. Still, she made a point of staring the Stormtrooper down, insistent upon not showing fear, either to the enemy or in front of her frightened children.

“Quiet, you traitorous scum!” the male voice snapped at her, though it did nothing to silence Rey’s resolve.

“It’s _me_ your damn general wants!” She glanced imploringly from the head Stormtrooper to the leading pilot wearing a midnight chrome helmet who was obviously in charge of this mission. “Let my children go!”

“Not a chance,” the head pilot scoffed. He nodded to the two sets of Stormtroopers who held Rey and Amidala firmly by the arms. “Put ’em on board.” He then turned to the head Stormtrooper—the one responsible for clouting Rey—and commanded that he alert General Hux and Kylo Ren of the recapturing of their fugitives.

At the passing utterance of that second name—a name that only two days prior had meant nothing but utmost disgust and loathing to Amidala—the girl’s blood began pumping faster. She should have felt relief and reassurance that her father, in all his intimidating disguise work for the Resistance, might be able to pluck them out of this godforsaken mess (albeit a second time), but, now, such hopes only invoked worry. He hadn’t answered her mother’s telepathic message, so there was little knowing whether he was all right, trying to strategies a Plan B, or had already been found out by their foes.

_‘If they’re alerting him to our capture, Ami, then that’s good news for him_ and _for us,’_ she heard Rey speak collectedly inside her mind. _‘Keep calm. Don’t give them the satisfaction of seeing your fear. We’ll figure something out, I promise.’_

Amidala turned to her mother as the pair of them were roughly hustled onto the transporter. Somehow, she wasn’t convinced that all would turn out all right. Her father might be in the midst of being informed that his confidential loved ones were headed back to Proclamation’s Star base, but what then? They had tried to escape once and the penalties for doing so were likely to be even more volatile than the first round had been. Their chances of pulling off another remarkable break were probably slim to none. The thought of being trapped in a confined, stale holding cell once more was enough to make Amidala shudder.

_‘Stop it, Ami,’_ Rey commanded; the urgency and apprehension in her mother’s voice wasn’t lost on the young Padawan. _‘You_ mustn’t _resort to this manner of thinking. Don’t.’_

Amidala stilled her thoughts as the transporter began its eerily quiet but rocky route back to its base. Yet, seeing her younger brother and sister being cuffed in front of her, with blaster rifles aimed squarely at the back of their innocent heads, made quieting her nerves damn near impossible.

_‘Please,’_ she found herself praying, pleading, to her father, as the pilot reported the family’s status to their Star base, _‘help us!’_

* * *

_“This is hardly sensible!”_

_“Quiet, my young apprentice—”_

_“You can’t honestly belive that luring Kylo Ren here is a bright idea?” Master Luke turned to his frustrated Padawan learner and offered her one of his long, pensive stares that did little to provide reassurance. Rather, it was the sort of vacant expression that had regularly made Rey want to tear her hair out ever since she had first come to this remote island months ago to train with the experienced, yet elusive Jedi. “He’ll surely kill you; or, at the very least, take you hostage! The whole galaxy is looking for you, you know, including the First Order!”_

_“I don’t think that will happen.”_

_Rey detested the typical ambiguity in that response. Her accompanying expression informed the old man as much, too, though Master Luke was now gazing off towards the sea rather than at her. “What makes you so sure?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest._

_Master Luke’s conveyance was still aggravatingly abstract when those wise blue eyes fell back onto her. “Because if Ben truly wanted to find me, he’d have done so already. His guilt and regret have kept him away. He’s as much afraid of me now as he claims to be so insistent on finding me.”_

‘Afraid’? ‘Guilt’?’ _Rey stared on, bewildered. “Your nephew had no trouble killing his own father. I doubt he feels any shred of culpability for_ your _sake. The Padawan learner you taught all those years ago? That man’s dead, I’m telling you.”_

_Master Luke’s stance was firm, for he didn’t so much as flinch at Rey’s unpardonable words. “We shall see,” he whispered, turning away from her once more, and proceeded to meditate, though whatever about was blocked out to Rey._

_With an aggravated roll of her eyes, Rey glowered and stalked off, giving her master whatever space he wished. He was infuriating, Master Luke. It made no sense to her whatsoever why he should send Kylo Ren a telepathic message and tell that crazed man his whereabouts. Did her master have a death wish? Did he want to send his young apprentice over the edge and bait her into another fight with the evil cad? Because_ that _‘s where things were headed if Kylo Ren had the gall to show up here. Rey wouldn’t let him step foot onto this island without a fight._

_Then again, the last person in the entire galaxy Rey wanted to ever encounter again was that same man, Kylo Ren. The mere reflection of him left her seeing murderous, blood-thirsty red. If he_ did _come, Rey wasn’t so certain she wouldn’t make good on her promise to avenge Han Solo’s death and kill the wretched son of a bitch herself._

_If Master Luke truly wanted his Padawan learner to reel in her hatred for Kylo Ren and for Kylo Ren alone, which, otherwise, was a most certain path to the Dark Side should she permit these ill feelings to keep gnawing at her soul, then he was failing dismally._ Meditate _, her conscience pressed._ Clear your mind. Thinking of stabbing your lightsaber through Kylo Ren’s chest won’t absolve you of your grief. Remember what Master Luke said…

_That’s what the rational part of her brain was advising, anyhow. The stirring quench for vengeance was far louder, though._

*** * ***

_Less than twenty-four hours later it was a nauseating shock to Rey to witness Kylo Ren’s command shuttle touching down on the highest landing on the island. Rey’s blood ran cold when she spotted the imposing black ship breaking through the clouds and descending towards them, much like a hunter about to claim its doomed prey._

_Master Luke was already ahead of Rey, hiking his way to the top of the hill with his walking stick in tow, as though he was marching towards certain death. Rey struggled to keep up, for her legs had suddenly turned wobbly and stiff, working against every forward motion she made._

_“Be mindful,” Master Luke spoke to her over his shoulder, not once turning back. “The Darkness he carries with him is remarkably strong; much heavier than I’d wagered.”_

_‘What did you expect to encounter?’ Rey wanted to pose and bit her bottom lip to keep from shouting._

_“I’d thought the shame and grief might cushion him a little,” Master Luke acknowledged in an underlying heartsick manner; his dashed hopes drifted away on the wind, leaving Rey afflicted._

_She couldn’t respond to that. She had warned the old man numerous times that his nephew was no longer the goodhearted, eagre little boy he had supposedly once been_ ( _and told to Rey when her training began). From what little she had gathered from her master, Ben Solo was a stark contrast to the monster he had fashioned himself into._

_Besides, he had wound up killing his own father. Rey had witnessed the unthinkable act with her own eyes. Wasn’t that enough validation that the man’s soul was rotted for good?_

_Master Luke had had the same mind-boggling response that General Organa had afterwards, much to Rey’s ever growing astonishment: ‘There’s still Light in him. The goodness is there, desperate to get it. I felt it. He just needs help.’_

_Well, if_ that _was really the ruddy case, why couldn’t_ she _sense it, too? Master Luke had told Rey that her hatred was blocking her from the truth, but she thought that a bunch of codswallop. Kylo Ren was the epitome of evil—of Darkness, of everything that was wrong with the world—and Master Luke would gauge that for himself soon enough._

_They approached the top of the hill and Rey hastened her pace, both she and her master somewhat breathless from the steep climb. Unsurprisingly but no less chilling, Kylo Ren was awaiting them there. The haunting sight of that ominous figure, in his billowing black robes and inhuman mask, made Rey halt dead in her tracks, and Master Luke as well._

_“Luke Skywalker,” said that deep, unfeeling voice, breaking the stifling silence that hung heavy in the air. “At last. I’ve been anticipating this moment for a long time.”_

_Master Luke’s subsequent response was remarkably coy. “Have you?”_ _he questioned._

_“Indeed.” Kylo cocked his head, robes sweeping alongside the fierce, seaside winds, and Rey knew he was assessing her person. Had he expected her to be here? Had he not? “The girl who would be your new apprentice, I presume?”_

_Master Luke gave Rey a quiet look over, one that she returned. Then they uniformally stared back at Kylo._

_Kylo stepped away from the ramp to his ship and approached, striding cautiously, purposely slow. There appeared to be no one else with him which Rey thought peculiar._

_“You are alone,” Master Luke spoke for the pair of them, as though he had read her trepidation._

_“Yes.”_

_“Why? Didn’t bring any of your goons with you?” Rey was unable to bite back her tongue._

_Kylo provided her no answer, though Rey could feel the Darkness radiating off of him like a heinous virus, even from such a distance as the length that the top of this hill afforded them. She squared her shoulders, her fingers tingling to reach for the lightsaber stowed in the leather pouch attached to her belt. She quietly noted that Master Luke showed no indications of reaching for his own to protect himself._

_“You haven’t been able to help your apprentice curb her anger and animosity,” Kylo appraised, giving a cocksure snort. “Perhaps, there’s hope for her yet. The Supreme Leader will be pleased to hear of this development.”_

_The fire within Rey was set aflame. “I’ll join that demented leader you worship when we’re both good and dead!” she snarled, clenching her hands into fists at her sides._

_“We shall see.”_

_Rey could sense the vile smirk in that response, as well as the unnerving one plastered on the strangely handsome face that lurked behind the mask—a combination that hypnotised and abhorred her—and the rage within Rey seethed. She wrestled internally to tone down her emotions, watching Master Luke take a bold step forward._

_“Ben—”_

_“I no longer answer to that name.” There was a prickling to his tone now, a slight alteration that Rey, at once, picked up on. She was glad she apparently wasn’t the only one so easily goaded._

_“I will address you by no other name than the one of your birth; the name your family gave you.”_

_At once, Kylo’s Darkness surged but the Jedi and his apprentice expanded their Light to meet its antithesis, ready, challenging. His fiery red cross-saber emerged from inside his cloak and spluttered to life. Rey stiffened her stance. He was too far away from Master Luke to make a proper swing yet, but the unveiling of his deadly weapon still hadn’t prompted the experienced Jedi to reach for his own._

_“I have no family,” Kylo growled. His grip on his cross-saber tightened, his rage spurring it to crackle and pop with ferocious intensity._

_As far as Rey was concerned, Master Luke had expended enough stock at the hands of Fate. He had tempted Kylo Ren, an utter madman, to his long-standing hideout and was now attempting to approach him unarmed. Either he truly did have a baffling death wish or was as deranged as Rey feared. Her astute judgement told her that this showdown wasn’t going to end without blood._

_“Yes, you do,” Master Luke insisted, speaking with an even patience and understanding that left Rey dumbfounded. He had never addressed her with such…compassion. “You cannot deny the truth of who you are, Ben; of what you are. You are a Solo—”_

_“_ Stop it _!” Kylo hissed, and Rey startled at his outburst._

_Master Luke didn’t desist, however. He took several defining steps closer, speaking in an even, collected tone, “You’re the beloved son of Han Solo and Princess Leia Organa. You are my cherished nephew and I, your uncle, Luke Skywalker.”_

_“_ Enough, you _—”_

_“You were a Jedi once.” Master Luke refused to put his guard up, prompting Rey to carefully approach from behind. If the old man insisted on getting himself hurt—or, worse, killed—she would, at least, be close enough to try and put a stop it. “And you would have become a great one had I not instilled you with more confidence; if your father had tried to better understand you; if your mother had told me of the torments you suffered at night…_

_“We could have done so much more for you, Ben,” he lamented openly. “You held so much promise…and we failed you; all of us. We failed. You hold such promise yet.”_

_Kylo jolted, prompting Rey to grab her lightsaber. “_ You’re a damn fool! Your words are poison! _“_

_“A fool I may be, yes, but I can sense the good in you, Ben; the conflict between the Dark and the Light. You needn’t continue to suffer so needlessly. The Light calls to you…as strongly as it ever did, Ben.”_

_Although overtly agitated, Kylo, also, looked torn between running his uncle through now that the Jedi was close enough to engage in a duel or allowing this emotionally-charged spar to carry on a while longer; to hear what the old man had to say._

_Rey hesitated to unleash her weapon, confounded by Kylo’s reluctance; or was he merely biding his time and waiting for the opportune moment to strike, perhaps, when_ she _least expected it?_ Yes… That must be it. Be ready, Rey.

_“You’re wrong about me!” Kylo jeered, raising his arm and pointing his cross-saber at his defenceless uncle. “You always_ were _wrong about me! You never understood! And you couldn’t possibly understand now!”_

_Master Luke stared at Kylo Ren for a drawn out, measured moment, no doubt stricken by the unrecognisable horror and degradation his nephew had become. His words were wistful when he finally replied, “But I do, Ben. I_ do _understand. You feel it, don’t you? That insatiable pull to the Light.” Kylo went still as stone, not so much as daring to breathe, from what Rey could ascertain at a distance. “Even now, it’s not too late… Accept it, Ben. You can turn this all around; it’s within your power. You can finally be rid of this pain. Please… Just let it in—”_

_“_ ENOUGH _!”_

_That ruthless, guttural cry was the final straw. The hairs on the back of Rey’s neck rose to attention and her hand made to curl around her lightsaber. A mighty flash of red flame rippled through the air and Rey jumped forward in front of Master Luke to meet it, her weapon striking Kylo Ren’s in the nick of time to prevent his cross-saber from running the Jedi through._

_It stunned Rey that Master Luke hadn’t so much as attempted to get out of harm’s way. She saw Kylo raise his arm to strike again, as if in slow motion, but her master, in turn, did surprisingly little. In fact, he did nothing at all. He stood precisely where he was, seemingly paralysed by what was coming his way, and stared, downtrodden, at the grotesque mask of Kylo Ren, grasping for some glimmer of his nephew’s old self beyond the veil._

_As Rey could have told her master a dozen times over and it probably wouldn’t have had any impact, there was nothing there; no lingering shadows of the man’s former self. There could be no good in Kylo Ren, and she was about to prove it to Master Luke tenfold._

_Taking Kylo by surprise, Rey successfully swing her lightsaber and sent him stumbling back a step. She half expected Master Luke to leap to her aid but was too caught up in her own chagrin to take note of the sore fact that he wasn’t doing a damned thing to help her. She swung again and again, knocking roughly against Kylo’s cross-saber, dodging his equally violent strokes. One such swing nearly grazed her cheek and instead of turning fickle under pressure, Rey twirled around and shot Kylo’s cross-saber a tremendous blow, one that left him struggling to maintain his balance._

_Vibrant shades of red and blue combusted, mad sparks lighting the darkness. Rey’s arms trembled as she fought Kylo’s superior weight and strength. The flaming cross in his saber inched towards her, shaving a bit of fabric—and skin—clear off her right shoulder. She screamed and summoned the pain inward, hell-bent on using it against Kylo as much as her petite frame and equal energy could exhaust._

_A vigorous shove caught Kylo unprepared. He swayed and tried to right his feet, just sparing himself what would have resulted in an amputated arm had he not raised his cross-saber in time._

_Rey’s lightsaber collided with Kylo’s once more, Darkness and Light grappling for dominance. Rey could feel her strength depleting rather quickly in this round. The fuming hatred she had unleashed in her short battle with Kylo was rapidly taking its toll, something she hadn’t experienced last time they had duelled. There was more shared experience this round; more animosity that had had time to build. Its release was not only draining her Light but stealing what physical strength she carried. Her own anger frightened her enough that she worked relentlessly to recede it._

_The Darkness—and Kylo—clinched the Padawan’s fears at once, deciding to play on them to his advantage. When Rey’s energy waned for but a moment, Kylo struck hard, knowing she wouldn’t be able to hinder its force. He swung his much longer arm in a circle, spinning Rey’s lightsaber straight out of her hand, and the impact was such that her feet flew out from underneath her weight and she landed on her back, colliding with the ground. The impact ignited a flaring pain in her lower spine that momentarily blurred her vision._

_Suddenly, Rey realised that she couldn’t move, and not of her own accord. Kylo was using the Force to keep her immobile. She felt betrayed by her own body. Her back was throbbing, her Light was diminishing, and no matter how hard she battled against his might, her enemy held the upper hand. All she could see above her was a black face—the callous mask of a cold-hearted killer—who’s cross-saber was waving with the intent to crucify._

_‘HELP!’ she wanted to bellow but her throat had gone dry._

_Then something unexpected happened. Kylo paused mid-swing, and not from her combating energy—or even Master Luke’s which, evidently, was non-existent—but something else. The resistance was entirely of his own volition. He was glaring down at Rey, though, of course, she couldn’t see his true eyes; but the mask was staring, nonetheless, the breathing coming from beneath its make ragged and strenuous._

_Was he stalling? Did he want to draw out her impending demise in order to terrorise her some more before the end?_ No… _Even Rey, petrified and unable to move, sensed that there was something else at work that had nothing to do with the Darkness. He was confounded, dithering between the decision to finish her off here and now…or to let her go. Rey wasn’t sure what frightened her more in this moment: that Kylo Ren was actually considering letting her live or that these might be her final moments._

_Astoundingly, Kylo lowered his fighting arm and the blaze of his red cross-saber extinguished. He slowly stepped backward, his free hand curled into a twisted ball at his side. His entire body was quaking but, still, he wouldn’t move to strike her._

_Rey warily raised herself onto her elbows, flinching at the shooting pangs in her lower back. She waited with baited breath, uncertain and afraid, wondering if the maniac would allow her to rise, perhaps, even let her retrieve her lightsaber; or if this was all a sick game to get her to believe that she had a chance of survival._

_All of sudden, Master Luke was hauling Rey to her feet, pulling her up by the pits of her arms. She stumbled but found her footing, not daring to take her eyes off of Kylo Ren the whole time; of that emotionless, contorted mask of his. He remained rooted to the ground, however, panting but otherwise static._

_“You’ve both taken your first steps,” Rey heard Master Luke address them but could hardly believe her ears. He turned from her to his nephew and Rey saw tears streaming down his face. “Ben, I… I knew you could do it.”_

_Kylo Ren said nothing._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Deep Space)**

“Kylo,” the soft voice drawled to its kneeling servant, its tone dripping with malice and discontent, “my ever foolish apprentice… You disappoint me.”

Kylo bowed his head lower to the ground. His shoulders inadvertently tensed in anticipation of what he knew was coming: punishment. “I’m sorry, my master,” he issued ever so quietly, keeping his mask directed at the hollow floor, his tone levelled and concealing his fright.

“Apologies are about all you and Hux can ever offer me, aren’t they?” Kylo knew better than to answer; the result would only flare and provoke Snoke’s temper, landing him, the ‘foolish’ apprentice, in more trouble than he already was. “You let the girl escape!” Snoke proceeded to snarl, his ire rising with each word. “And her offspring, too!”

“I wasn’t made aware of their escape until after the fact, my master. Had I but known—”

“The girl would _still_ likely have evaded you! It’s a pattern of yours that baffles me! _Why is that_?”

Kylo gave a slow, steady shake of his head. The blood was rushing to his ears and his heart was thumping, but he kept the panic restrained, tucking it away into a hypothetical drawer so that his body might not cave in on itself. He hadn’t gotten this far in deceiving his long-standing ‘master’, turned-greatest adversary by letting his emotional instincts get the better of him, particularly when the Supreme Leader was so close and able to sense every thought and emotion that crossed his path.

“She doesn’t evade me, Master.” At the edgy pause that ensued, Kylo chanced a peek at the phantom-like, ghostly ruler. He was eying Kylo incredulously from atop his high chair. “She’s been…fortunate thus far, but—”

“‘Fortunate’?” Snoke murmured, the threat in that cold, low interruption as unshakable as his motives.

Kylo stiffened. “We shall have her soon, my master, I can assure you—”

“ _Enough_.”

A stabbing pain shot through the back of Kylo’s head, sending his solid upper frame staggering forward onto hands and knees. He struggled to regain control of the simmering panic that wanted to explode, thereby gifting Snoke his crooked satisfaction of conjuring pain. His gloved hands clawed uselessly at durasteel, desperate to dig into something that might mitigate the agony.

_Oh, but the pain…_

It was acute, as if his mind was being meticulously split wide open. It took every ounce of Kylo’s threadbare will not to scream.

In a frenzy, he tried for meditation; to reach that far off place in the recesses of his mind where he might dodge the worst of the torment. _Yes…_ A lush green island on a far off shore that had been his first home away from everything he knew, where he had hoped to prove himself the awe-inspiring Sith that had been whispered and promised to him ever since childhood. It may have been a far-stretch, seeing as the voice who had accompanied him all those years ago had possessed such ill intent, and yet, the island… _The island_. If he could reach that sacred place, he might shield himself from feeling Snoke’s wrath.

“You cannot hide from me,” Snoke gave a calculated, cocksure laugh. “ _I see you, Kylo Ren_. You are _mine_.” The pain enhanced and Kylo’s seemingly indestructible body was resigned to uncontrollable fits of seizing. “And the girl… The girl and her offspring shall, also, be _mine_. You will see that it’s done, my apprentice. Do not fail me again.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Due to the quick, severe drop in interest in this story, I'll likely span out updates from now on. It's been a lot of work tweaking and heavily re-editing this story for AO3 so far, so I'm cutting myself some slack from now on. Also, I'm no longer accepting requests for access to this story over on my private website, so please don't ask. **
> 
> **Thank you to the few readers who comment here. ❤️ You're the only reason I can find for continuing to offer forth this story publicly.**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

****

**Chapter 6**

_“Love is written in our instincts, yet erased by our actions.”_  
―Gayle D. Erwin

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

“Gehr’off me!”

“ _Easy, would you_?” Rey exclaimed to the two Stormtroopers viciously mistreating Han right in front of her eyes.

The Solo family had made their unfortunate return to Proclamation’s Star base and were just exiting the enemy’s transporter when the children began their unsuccessful attempts at warding off their not-so-hospitable captors. Despite Rey’s pleas to them to desist fighting against their restraints, and with repeated exasperated messages transmitted to the children in their minds, Han and Astrid were too wound up—too terrified, rather—to listen to their mother’s advice. They kicked and screamed and pushed back against the merciless hands that bound them, Han throwing insult after insult and Astrid shrieking in fear as they were led through the main hanger.

It didn’t take much to put a fiendish stop to the younglings’ combativeness. One of the two Stormtroopers shoving Han forcefully along a corridor suddenly turned on the boy and grasped him by the throat, hoisting him off the ground and into the air. Han’s berating was, at once, censored. The female Stormtrooper’s hand coiled so tightly around his neck that Rey feared she might snap it right in half.

“Stop! STOP IT! _PLEASE_!” Rey begged, bringing her forced gait to a screeching halt.

Her wide eyes frantically veered in the direction of another Stormtrooper marching in front of her who now had Astrid hosited against his hip, carrying her like a duffle bag. The petrified five-year old had stopped putting up a fight after another accompanying Stormtrooper jabbed her squarely in the ribs with his blaster rifle, leaving her bent over, nursing her side, and gasping for breath. Amidala had gone into a heated diatribe over her little sister’s maltreatment, spitting her own series of threats at the enemy that apparently weren’t about to lessen their cruelty

Meanwhile, Rey tried to reason with everyone. “ _Quit manhandling my children_!” she demanded. “Can’t you see she’s frightened? What has she ever done to you? AND PUT MY SON DOWN THIS INSTANT BEFORE YOU KILL HIM!”

 _That_ , at the very least, drew the Stormtrooper strangling Han out of her homicidal stupor. In an abrupt haste, she brought the boy’s dangling feet back to the ground, pointed her blaster rifle at his head and when he wouldn’t move forward straight away, she gave him a decisive push. He nursed his bruised neck but obeyed.

Rey breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that the Stormtrooper had come to her senses. Once more she quietly urged her children in their minds to stay calm, cooperative, and on the alert. She was most desperate to transmit another telepathic message to Ben, but it would be a dangerous a risk. Her shrewd eyes kept searching for him, though—for any sign of that steely, unflinching mask that, many years ago, would have been anything _but_ whom she wished to stumble upon—but there was no glimpse of her husband anywhere.

 _Please_ , she begged, making sure not to utter his name in such a compromising place as this, _help us… We’re here…_

The Stormtroopers carried on thrusting the family around corner after corner, corridor after seemingly endless durasteel corridor, for several more nerve-wracking minutes until they happened upon an empty elevator. The Stormtroopers not in possession of any of the hostages cleared a path for their comrades who did. They shuffled them onto the lift, with barely room to spare, and the doors noiselessly closed behind them. The elevator rumbled to life and ascending several flights up.

 _‘Mum, where are we going?’_ Amidala spoke to Rey in her mind, sounding agitated and afraid.

_‘I’m not sure. To see General Hux, I would imagine…’_

_‘What for? What does he want with us?’_

_‘I’m not sure of that either,’_ Rey lied, keeping a considerate eye on Han and Astrid in front of her, both of whom were (thankfully) not offering up another baiting word to their foes.

 _‘Where is Da—he?’_ her daughter started before correcting herself.

_‘I don’t know, Ami. Stay calm. We’ll know more soon. Hopefully.’_

_‘Shouldn’t we try to reach out to him again?’_

_‘Not here.’_

The elevator doors burst open, bringing mother’s and daughter’s conversation to a standstill. They were hurriedly hustled off the lift into what Rey soon ascertained as the ship’s navigational control area. The place, dark and forbidding, was flooded with Proclamation personnel, its design and layout harking back to the days of the First Order.

The only two people who so much as spared a glance in the family’s direction were a beefy-looking redheaded officer hand a curious operator standing a few feet away, the higher-up hovering above the other. The general terminated their conversation, straightened, and gave Rey a particularly menacing sneer that left her holding her breath. She suspected who this vile man was, though they had never properly met. His disdain for their kind—the ‘loathsome Resistance’, as he was known to refer to her and her friends by—made him a considerably unforgettable fellow from both the previous war and the one now brewing.

“Well, well, well,” he murmured, as he fast approached the Solos, the sickening smile lining his thin lips spreading across his ashen countenance.

“Sir,” addressed the head Stormtrooper, who issued a firm raise of his arm in salute to General Hux, “we’ve recaptured the family as ordered.” He and another Stormtrooper shoved Rey to the front and she purposely put up little resistance. “This is the mother who claims—”

“I know who she is, Captain.”

The head Stormtrooper lowered his helmet in shame, providing General Hux a long moment to appraise Rey for himself. He studies her up and down, with contemptible flair, before moving onto her children. When his frigid eyes fell back on Rey again, she noted that they were devoid of what too often never accompanied members of the Proclamation: compassion.

“So…the ‘girl’ the Supreme Leader has been searching for.”

“ _What_?” Amidala blurted out before Rey could so much as move her lips.

“Silence, you little scum!” the head Stormtrooper growled at Amidala, placing the hood of his blaster rifle under the girl’s chin. “You are not being addressed by his Leadership!”

Rey tried to turn her head but was aggressively prodded by another Stormtrooper to keep herself facing forward. She detected minor scuffling from behind, though, including harsh kicking that had Amidala groaning and then going silent. Astrid whimpered softly at Rey’s side whilst Han made an audible gasp, leaving the Jedi mother to only imagine how badly her daughter had just been thrashed.

“Please,” she beseeched General Hux, sensing her pleas would likely go unassuaged, “don’t hurt my children. They’ve done nothing for which you should harm them.”

“Considering their assistance in aiding your escape—”

“I’m their _mother_ ,” Rey hissed and clenched her teeth. “Of course I wasn’t about to leave without them—”

“Yes, yes,” General Hux chuckled unnervingly, taking a pause to toy with his leather gloves. His chilling stare drew back to her. “Well, I’m afraid, _Girl_ , we will offer no favours to the likes of you and your kind. We won’t tolerate any more shenanigans either; not from you or your… _precious offspring_.” He completed that degrading remark with his nose turned up and his lips pursed together, as though mere mention of Rey’s ‘offspring’ left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

“My family—” Rey tried to reason, keeping her voice steady, but the speed with which General Hux so easily lost his cool brought her up short.

“ _SHUT UP_!” He huffed, flared his nostrils, and bore his teeth, his face turning a shade that was nearly as red as his hair. “You’re finished, do you hear? _Finished_! We’ve searched the farthest corners of the galaxy looking for you, you idiot girl, and we’ll tolerate no more! You’ll be brought to the Supreme Leader as commanded, and I’ll hear nothing more about your wretched pleas! _Captain_!”

The head Stormtrooper startled but quickly recovered. “Sir?”

“See that the girl and her offspring are locked in Sector 12 and that _they stay there_!” Before the Stormtrooper could make a move, however, he added, with baleful promise, “Your life will be forfeited if anything should go wrong this time, I can assure you. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the Stormtrooper replied, though the trepidation in his voice wasn’t lost on any of the Solos. He latched onto Rey’s arm and started to drag her away, ordering the others under his command to do the same with the children, when another voice, far deeper and more threatenign than the general’s, suddenly rang out, stopping everyone in their tracks.

“Just a moment.” 

_That_ sent Rey and the children’s heads spiraling in the voice’s direction. After fighting to turn around, they located Kylo Ren stepping from the same lift they had used. He paused in his commanding stride, surveying them—his family—in silence, with that same unwelcoming air that General Hux possessed, only his mask camouflaged any hint of differing expression. He stalked forward to stand side-by-side with the general, who appeared entirely unravelled by Kylo’s unexpected presence.

“I require a report.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ren—”

“Why was I not informed that the girl and the offspring had been recaptured?”

“ _Because there wasn’t time, damn it_!” General Hux countered in the form of a snarl. He puffed out his chest, making him—to Rey—more ridiculous-looking as he tried to stand his ground before the far more towering and bulkier Knights of Ren commander.

“It would seem the Supreme Leader had enough time to inform me of this chain of events, whereas _you_ ‘ve failed. He sent me back here straight away to confirm the information for myself.” General Hux’s fury deflated like a struck down tie fighter, his red beet complexion diminishing to an unhealthy grey. “You wouldn’t be trying to take matters into your own hands now, would you, General?”

“ _Of course not_!” he argued, glaring and affronted. “I told you, there wasn’t time to send word! Not all of us can use the blasted Force to communicate around here!”

“Most unfortunate…for _you_.” Kylo stretched the tense pause that followed, seeming to take substantial delight in the general’s growing uneasiness, before stating, his voice low and vindictive, “For your sake, General, I suggest you start falling in line. We can afford no further hiccups. The Supreme Leader is most displeased as it is.” General Hux went decidedly mute, though his eyes were swarming with animosity for his colleague. Unaffected, Kylo turned away to assess Rey and the children. “Where are you taking them?” he inquired, to which the head Stormtrooper awkwardly spoke up when General Hux proved unforthcoming.

“Sector 12, sir.”

“No. Sector 12 is all too familiar to them now. We wouldn’t want another escape on our hands, would we? Take them to Sector 15.”

Rey and the children caught the indignation that flashed across General Hux’s disgruntled face, but he didn’t contend with Kylo in changing their prison cells. Instead, he bound his lips tighter together.

“Yes, sir. Come along, you scum!”

Rey and the children found themselves being forcefully taken from Kylo Ren’s presence. Astrid started to cry out to him, much to the others’ immediate panic and concern, but a stormy startle in the Force left the youth stunned and shutting down, as if an invisible door had been slammed in her face. Rey’s resilience faltered at the mixture of hurt and confusion that broke out on poor Astrid’s face, but she sensed that Ben despised it—and himself—even more so for having to keep his cover in check. Astrid’s lower lip quivered but she went along quietly, lowering her watery gaze to the floor.

 _‘It’s all right, sweetheart,’_ Rey urged the girl in her mind. _‘It’s going to be all right. But not here, Astrid. Not. Here.’_

Rey and Ben locked eyes on one another for a short, heart-pounding moment, though, to them, it felt closer to an angst-ridden eternity. Then the head Stormtrooper clasping Rey’s arms whirled her around and shoved her, along with the children, back onto the lift, breaking the secret couple’s connection. Rey eyed her husband over her shoulder and caught a parting glance of his off-putting, stoic form just as the elevator doors shut. Although she couldn’t read the expression he wore behind his disguise, his subtle shift in his rigid body language, which no one else detected but her, spoke another feeling for itself: he was petrified.

* * *

_Kylo Ren hadn’t spoken a word for some time. Had it been multiple hours or one? Rey had lost track, which wasn’t hard to do when you’re sharing a confined space with a known coldblooded killer, and he hadn’t so much as removed that damned mask of his. That only perpetuated her unsettledness about the whole situation._

_In fact, Kylo Ren hadn’t stopped her from recollecting her lightsaber up on the hill where they had duelled nor did he attempt any sudden violent moves to overrun Master Luke or herself a second time. To Rey’s utter shock—and increasing befuddlement—he had slowly, cautiously, and quite simply followed her and Master Luke down the steep hill that led to the hut where Master and Jedi apprentice resided without putting up any sort of resistance. He had gone willingly; or so it would appear._

_Rey made sure to keep a safe distance between herself and their cloaked, emotionally twisted company, refusing to turn her back for so much as a split second should Kylo Ren choose to act. She wouldn’t put it past him, after all, to start wrecking havoc, even if Master Luke was supposedly willing to put his complete trust in his deranged nephew after nearly being struck down by the loon mere minutes—or hours—before._

_What the hell was happening? How had they arrived at the present moment? Had the one-time scavenger stepped through a void and finally entered the realm of Insanity?_

_‘Beats me.’_

_Why had Kylo Ren not finished her off up on the hill that evening? Why would he let her live? More to the point, why in the name of Jakku was Master Luke being so trusting of a relative he no longer recognised, especially after just having watched him and his apprentice duke it out for their lives? Rey had prevented Kylo Ren from killing Master Luke and now her trainer had casually invited the psychopath into their home, as if nothing earth-shattering had transpired._

_‘Insanity!’ she concluded, scuffing her boots on the dirt floor as they entered the hut together._

_Now, she was meticulously chewing her food and staring Kylo Ren down from across the small wooden table that divided them. Master Luke sat at the opposite end, in between them, with his legs crossed and, as it would seem, perfectly at ease. Kylo Ren hadn’t touched the platter of food his uncle offered. All he had really done since entering their hut was to stare at both of them without speaking, ogling without visibly drawing breath. Whatever he was conspiring over, his mind was—unsurprisingly—closed off to Rey and Master Luke. The Darkness emitting off of him had markedly reduced, but it most certainly was still floating about, tapping at the ridges of Rey’s mind and putting her more and more on edge as the quiet minutes crawled by._

_Rey was ready for any sudden moves. Her trusty lightsaber remained nestled at her side, apt to be drawn should Kylo Ren decide to go in for another kill. And a kill Rey was certain of, even if her master wasn’t. Kylo Ren knew of nothing else but to take, take, and take._

_‘Bastard.’_

_“Will you not drink something, Ben?” Master Luke prodded, disrupting the uncomfortable silence that had become the atmosphere inside of their toasty hut for nearly two hours. The soft crackling of a fire was the only reply. Kylo Ren gave a slight turn of his head and Master Luke pressed him again, “Surely, if not hungry, you must be thirsty for something by now?”_

_Again, there was no response. That dome-like mask turned to Rey and she felt the presence of the Force draw nearer, debauched and broken, its ruin prickling at her senses. Her smart eyes narrowed and she swallowed the last remnants of her food before spitting, “You won’t get inside my head.” In addition, she shot him a bitter, provocative smile. “Not this time. Not ever again.”_

_Master Luke let forth a small noise but Kylo didn’t offer a retort. Rey gave up their staring contest, with a definitive roll of her eyes. She scooted onto her knees, intending to clear hers and Master Luke’s plates from the table, when, to both of their amazement, Kylo finally addressed them._

_“You think I consider that a misfortune of some kind?”_

_Rey froze, feeling the heat in her cheeks rising. “I think you’d consider not being able to torture someone a most terrible misfortune, yes.”_

_Kylo tilted his head and, after a pause, posed an unexpected question to her, “You presume I enjoy it?”_

_“Oh, yes,” Rey didn’t hesitate to fire back. She knew she ought to placate the emotional uprising this Knight of Ren was feeding her but, at the moment, she was too spent to dispatch the energy needed to do so._

_“You really think people to be so one-noted?”_

_“Not people, just you.”_

_“You seem to have given me a lot of thought?”_

_Rey didn’t like the suggestion in that response and shrugged. “I don’t give you much thought at all, to be honest.”_

_There was the suggestion of a smirk to Kylo’s tone when he responded, his rich voice oozing with disdain, “That feeling’s mutual.”_

_“Good.”_

_Now boiling with ire, Rey scurried to her feet and stomped out of sight, throwing back the threadbare curtain that led into a tightly compacted kitchenette, though it hardly functioned as such. She deposited hers and Master Luke’s plates into a bucket and the grubby water splashed onto her pants. ‘That wretched, vile, odious, no good monster!’ she cursed internally. She grasped the ledge of a table with both hands to calm her ragged breathing, closing her eyes and listening to the calming will of the Light. She soon gave up. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ It was useless to meditate with Kylo’s negative energy hovering so close by. She would have to leave the premises in order to reground herself, and yet, chancing leaving Master Luke alone with this unhinged man was most definitely out of the question._

_Resigned, though thoroughly disappointed, Rey returned to the sitting area, where Master Luke and Kylo still resided, not conversing with one another but seated on the floor in their same positions and silent as the grave. Kylo turned to Rey as she re-entered the room, but she averted his gaze. Brief glances at him were enough to send her emotions into a tizzy, so Rey exercised caution as she resumed her spot on the ground across from him. She stared determinedly at the various grooves and grains in the wood of the table that acted as a barrier, listening and connecting to the energy in the room, feeling its dramatic fluctuations._

_She had noted earlier how the Force never felt as restless as it did with Kylo Ren hanging around. His energy was blustery, torn, agitated; it seemed divided between accepting the Light that otherwise occupied this cosy space or asserting his Darkness by tearing it through. Perhaps, he was merely testing the wavelengths…_

_‘Biding his time for a kill, more like,’ Rey surmised and bit her inner cheek._

_“Well, if you won’t eat or drink anything, you must surely be in need of rest?” Master Luke piped up after a couple more uninterrupted minutes of awkward silence. Rey peered across the table but found Kylo’s attention diverted to his uncle. “I’ll make up the spare bed for you. Come.”_

_With some difficulty, Master Luke shifted out of his cross-legged position and, leaning on the aid of his walking stick, rose to his full height. Rey flinched when Kylo suddenly stirred as well. Her hand grabbed her lightsaber, prompting Kylo, who saw the Padawan learner start and reach for her weapon, to halt on one bent knee. He stared hard at this strange, fascinating young woman who was only beginning to test her powers, though she, in turn, couldn’t grasp whatever facial expression lay beyond the fallen Jedi’s façade._

_He gradually stood, which Rey allowed, and it was then that she realised that he hadn’t drawn his own weapon to defend himself. Her fingers loosened their grip around her lightsaber, but she wasn’t foolish enough to let go of it completely._

_Gracing her with one last disquieting stare, Kylo retreated from her presence, following Master Luke who pulled back a curtain on the opposite end of the room and headed to the back of the hut, with his nephew at his heel. Rey released a groan and rubbed at her forehead. This evening had sparked a turn of events that were more than she could have foreseen. Not only would Kylo Ren be staying the night, but there was no telling what might develop from here._

_‘Great! Could things possibly get any worse?’ Rey’s conscience came down hard on her own rhetorical question. ‘Of course they can get worse, Rey, and if that be the case, Kylo Ren will most definitely have_ everything _to do with it!’_

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Ben marched down the stairs, trying not to rush or appear as if he had any covert reason to be walking at lightspeed. That sort of behaviour would only raise suspicions from those around him, not the least of any of General Hux’s modest selection of intelligence personnel whom Ben was keenly aware of being their primary target of interest. That power-hungry, paranoid cretin was so thirsty to catch ‘Kylo Ren’ in the wrong—so needy for _anything_ he could potentially use against him at a later date—that it was imperative for Ben to stay three paces ahead at all times.

He consciously slowed his gait, though his steady steps didn’t match the spinning wheels turning over in his mind. _Rey, the children…_ Hopefully the stairs would afford his reeling thoughts free reign to figure things out; to form a backup plan to this most dire of situations that now lay in his hands to solve.

Thinking on all that was at stake didn’t calm his nerves. Should he not free Rey, his son, and his daughters from this place, there would be no point to carrying on with…anything. None of his elaborate scheming that spanned years of secret service to the Resistance would matter anymore.

How could he not fret outwardly, if only a little? His family’s lives were up for grabs. _How the hell did they wind up back here?_

Ben had been certain the Falcon would outrun their tie fighters by hundreds of miles. All had appeared to be in Rey and the children’s favour when he had been unexpectedly summoned away from Star base to answer Snoke’s latest call. Ben hadn’t expected to return carrying the distressful news of his family being retaken by their foes. This wasn’t how matters were supposed to pan out. 

_They should never have been anywhere near here in the first place, damn it!_

Ben started to ball his fingers into fists, having reached the bottom step of a stairwell, but, luckily, he caught his visibly stressing conduct, now simmering too close to the surface, and stifled it. He inhaled several deep breaths, trying to relax the nagging tensions in his neck, shoulders, and back. The pangs were persistent, however. He hadn’t thought much on the niggling suffering resulting from Snoke’s most recent dissatisfaction session; not since his master’s Force-sensitivity expertise had intercepted news from Star base regarding the status of the Solo family and ordered Kylo Ren to return to his ship at all speed which he had managed only whilst bent at the waist.

He wouldn’t see to his own hapless needs now, though. They could wait; there was nothing for it. The same objective that had been running through Ben’s mind days before, when his family had first been handed over to General Hux’s forces, was stuck on repeat, as he flew around a corner and took off towards Sector 15: _Get them out of here. Get them as far away from here as possible. Get them_ home.

 _‘I’m coming,’_ he spoke softly into the void, hoping that not only his wife and eldest daughter could hear his words but that his two younger children, who weren’t Force-sensitives, might hear his call as well. If anyone else was listening in, Kylo Ren’s message would have sounded cold, without feeling, possibly (he hoped) a touch menacing. _‘I’m coming for you…’_

*** * ***

_What does Snoke want with Mum? Does Dad know? Surely, he_ must _!_

In her desolate cell not far off, which consisted of nothing but durasteel grey comforts, supposedly impenetrable barriers and no viewports, Amidala’s back stiffened against the farthest wall where she sat, bundled into a ball on the floor. _That voice…_ The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. She had heard that voice before—at a variety of times in the past, well before she ever discovered her Force-sensitive gifts. In fact, she had thought she heard him coming through earlier that day when she had placed her trembling hands on one of the Falcon’s gunners for the first time, telling her to trust her instincts and when to strike.

It sounded like her father, of course, but then… _Why don’t I trust it at all?_

Was it because of _who_ Kylo Ren had turned out to be, a terrifying, life-changing discovery Amidala and her siblings had only uncovered a day ago? The shock had been acute and was still difficult to comprehend. It hadn’t fully sunk in yet that that same heathen was their father.

The prickling on the back of the young Padawan’s neck wouldn’t placate. Her arms inadvertently looped tighter around her long legs that she hugged protectively to her chest. She couldn’t explain away the bad feeling churning her stomach. She had felt it before, when she first came to Proclamation’s Star base, but there had been no time to ask her parents questions. They were all too busy fighting to free themselves of this mess.

Amidala’s frown deepened. _No…_ She felt the negativity in the Force closing in. _I definitely don’t trust it at all._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**  
> 

****

**Chapter 7**

_“Because of love, of course. The more you love something, the harder it is to lose.”_  
―Ava Dellaira

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Rey had her head raised and her eyes firmly glued to the hefty metal door frame when it flew open at the touch of his command. She knew Ben was outside her cell, for she had sensed his footsteps approaching before they made themselves audibly known to her. She didn’t require the telepathic confirmation that he would be with her soon, but it had been consoling to recognise, nonetheless.

Now, ‘Kylo Ren’ stood before her, as emotionally stunted as a man frozen in carbonite. The door shut behind him, the wind whiffing at the bottom of his tattered robes. That stark, guarded ensemble was something Rey had long despised, but she had learned many years ago to let the particulars of Ben’s compromising role go, no longer permitting their appearance—or, in this case, reappearance—to affect her emotions. Even with his mask solidly blocking his facial expressions, Rey could visualise what lay beyond the veil: terror and disbelief that she and the children had been recaptured after such meticulous efforts had been put into motion on his part to aid their escape from Proclamation’s Star base the first time.

Rey scrambled to her feet and dashed into his solid arms. They wrapped themselves around her back, long and tense, and cradled her possessively to his broad chest. Rey’s heart fluttered. She heard him take several taxing breaths through the communicator behind his mask and embraced him tighter still.

At first, Ben said nothing, content to merely secure his all-consuming grip around Rey’s petite frame, as though he was petrified that loosening his clasp on his wife might render his arms suddenly empty.

“I’m sorry,” Rey whispered and craned her neck to nuzzle his; he was practically hunched over, as his imposing, tall figure strained to embrace her without suffocating her. “I’m sorry, Ben… We tried.”

“ _What happened_?” he demanded in that deep, robotic voice that was his mask’s communicator, managing to sound both exasperated and shocked.

Rey reared back, but Ben wasn’t about to relax his posture. She stared up at him, perceiving the alarm and panic that wasn’t on display. “The Falcon’s hyperdrive failed us. Ami and I tried to fight off the tie-fighters but…there were just too many of them.” Ben stared on, not speaking or audibly breathing, so Rey pressed her fingers into his rigid lower back and calmly explained, “The kids were banged up pretty badly. They kept putting up a fight—”

“And you…” he interrupted, his voice soft but restrained. His gloved hand suddenly lifted to her face to gently brush along the gash in her upper lip.

Rey had all but forgotten being struck by the Stormtrooper. “It’s nothing,” she made to insist, feeling the Force-sensitive anger manifesting at her husband’s side.

“ _This cut is hardly ‘nothing’_ ,” he declared, sounding highly defensive.

“Ben, easy. It’s just a cut—”

“ _What else did they do to you_?”

“Nothing! I’m fine!” She snatched his hand that was holding fast to her and gave it a strong squeeze. “ _I’m all right_ ,” she maintained, though in a much quieter register this time.

Ben’s stiff upper body began to unravel. His hands, arms, and shoulders trembled and Rey heard him issue a couple more stressed, quivering breaths before he lowered his head to hers. Rey dug her fingers into his back and, once more, pressed his hand with the other. “And you,” she murmured after a short while, surveying him up and down with care; it was only upon closer inspection now that Rey noticed how poorly Ben was carrying himself, “you’re hurt.” He flinched at her observance and Rey knew she had hit a nerve, feeling the force of his mental shields pushing her backward and prompting her to prod him to communicate. “What did he do to you this time?”

“It’s nothing,” he stated, unemotional, repeating Rey’s exact words but with a hint of mockery that saw her glaring heatedly up into his mask.

“That isn’t fair, Ben.”

“You needn’t concern yourself with me. We need to focus on getting you and the kids the hell out of here—”

“Ben, _please_ , tell me what he’s done?”

“Later. It’s not important,” he reiterated and seized her by both arms, holding on tightly. “You need to get as far away from here as possible. Snoke will be arriving soon.”

A shiver shot through the length of Rey’s spine at the utterance of that foul ghoul’s name. Ben’s words repeated like blasters in her head: _‘Snoke will be arriving soon.’_

Time was suddenly speeding up, and Rey felt utterly powerless to stop it. She, too, reached out and clutched Ben by his arms, sucking in a breath and tossing her concerns momentarily to the back of her mind in order to focus on their next crucial steps. “What are we to do? The Falcon won’t run, Ben.”

Ben thought for a moment, Rey’s intensified expression reflecting onto his mask where his face—soft and mended, though still fragmented by past misdeeds—ought to be. “My ship,” he finally concluded, catching the reservations that flashed across his wife’s warm eyes. “You’ll seize my ship.”

* * *

_Rey bundled her blanket tighter around herself and shut her eyes. Less than a minute later the blanket was wrestled free of her own grasp and kicked down around her ankles. She huffed in frustration and shot upright on top of her lumpy mattress that lay on the floor, wearing a deeply-etched scowl and sleep-deprived look. It would have easily sent anyone within range scurrying for the hills._

_Anyone except Kylo Ren, evidently._

What’s the point in trying to sleep? _Rey contended. She wouldn’t get a wink’s rest with that blood-thirtsty commander supposedly ‘sleeping’ in the next room over from her._

_If Kylo Ren was to be staying feet from her and Master Luke then Rey would remain awake for as long as humanly possible, not taking a slim chance on a few minutes’ rest if it meant the difference between life and death. Being assassinated whilst she slept wasn’t exactly appealing nor desired, so Rey renounced sleep for the time being and settled for glaring at the frayed curtain that separated her from her potential killer for the remainder of that first tiresome night in the hut._

Why is he staying? _she kept going over and over in her head, though to no satisfying answer._ What’s his angle? Why would he give up the fight so easily? There must be _something_!

_Kylo Ren had retired to the extra mattress in Master Luke’s quarters hours ago, and yet, Rey hadn’t heard a peep coming from that spare room since. She could detect faint snoring at one point, but that was all. Was Kylo Ren actually asleep; or was he awake like her and waiting for her to let her guard slip so that he might finally finish them off? At the very least, wouldn’t he plan on taking them back to Snoke?_

_‘Change of plans,’ came an unexpected, low grumble in her head. Rey startled. In a second, her lightsaber was in her hand and flooding the room with blue light, her heart thumping twice as fast as before. ‘Put that away,’ he replied, with an irritated growl. ‘I have no intention of assassinating you in your sleep, Girl.’_

_‘Good to know, but I’m not a gullible fool and I sure as hell don’t believe you!’ she shot back, unnerved that he had heard her private musings. She had thought her mental shields were considerably tough to penetrate now, but Kylo Ren had been able to tiptoe inside her head without so much as making his presence known. She felt both spooked and exposed._

_‘Your loss of proper sleep, then.’ He sounded bored and that aggravated her, too._

_‘I’ll take it!’ She added, giving a perceptible snarl into the night air, ‘And stay the hell out of my head!’_

_‘With pleasure, but you should better occlude your thoughts if you don’t wish for me to hear them. Your mind is loud and obnoxious.’_

_A far more colourful remark came to mind but Rey refrained by clamping hard on her lower lip. After getting her heart rate back to a more reasonable rhythm, she turned off her lightsaber but stayed upright and rooted to her bed, watching the threadbare curtain through beady, slit-like eyes._

_If it was Kylo Ren’s intention to drive her to paranoia and utter madness, Rey begrudged that, so far, he was succeeding._

* * *

**Two Days Prior to Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

_“Y – Y –_ You _!” Amidala stammered, breathless, and pointed a quivering finger at the formerly masked, fiendish commander who had revealed his identity in her holding cell._

_The sudden exposure had sent the young Padawan toppling backward against the wall, stunned and appalled by what she saw. She heard him gently call her name in that loving, kind-hearted register she recognised as belonging to her father and blinked hard to will the wretched image away. It wasn’t working, though. He still stood a few feet from her—Ben Solo—only he wasn’t her father at all. Instead, he was dressed as that deplorable beast known throughout the galaxy as Kylo Ren, the wicked, fallen Jedi whose ruthless acts gave children nightmares and kept parents up at night, watching the skies lest he should come to terrorise their families._

This isn’t real! _her mind was shrieking._ THIS ISN’T REAL!

_“Ami, listen…” He started to take a small, cautious step towards her, but Amidala skidded and pressed her back into the durasteel wall, adamant for him not to come any closer._

_“NO!” she exclaimed, her round, dark eyes practically bugging out of their sockets. “St – Stay back! Stay away from me!”_

_“Ami, it’s all right,” he tried to reassure her, easing another step forward, with his hand outstretched. Amidala kept her head bravely raised but the rest of her body visibly trembled. It gnawed Ben’s insides to see his daughter retreating from him, and yet, he didn’t—and couldn’t—condone her ill reaction to seeing him this way for the first time. “It’s all right,” he repeated quietly, desperately wishing to reach her. “It’s me, Ami. It’s_ me _.”_

_“NO! GET AWAY!”_

_Staggering sideways, Amidala backed herself into the farthest corner of her cell, eyes petrified with fright; but there was something else surfacing that forced Ben to halt in his tracks. He could easily put a name to it, for it was a debilitating struggle that had plagued him for most of his life (that was, until Rey came along and changed his outlook on everything): aggression and anger. Consuming, uncontrolled, wild rage that was not only materialising on Amidala’s contorted face but also penetrating the confined room they shared, intent to alter the mood and make matters worse. Much, much worse._

_“Ami,” Ben tried to reach her speedily, speaking in a hushed, urgent tone, “please, don’t be frightened. It’s your father; it’s me. I promise, I won’t hurt you.”_

_“NO! You – You – You’re_ him _!” Her voice suddenly shattered and it took all of Ben’s willpower not to rush at his eldest and scoop her up in his arms. “All this – this time, you – you were_ him _!” Tears prickled her eyes, which frantically darted back and forth between his distinguishable face—a face she had thought to be warm and wonderful and loving all her life—and the bone-chilling reality that was Kylo Ren, its identity slung beneath his arm. Her mind was scrambling to make sense of how the two men could possibly be the same individual and Ben noted the immense mental struggle, wanting nothing more than to alleviate her pain and confusion._

_“Ami, it’s all a cover—”_

_“BUT IT’S_ YOU _!” she shrilled, pointing at the mask determinedly. “You’re… You’re Kylo Ren!” Her mouth drew open in shock and dismay, and the sore expression that soon took shape left Ben broken. “How could you?”_

_The question was small, dreadfully quiet and fragile, like a star burning out the last of its light. In that moment, Ben could only stare, observe the silent tears trickling down Amidala’s handsome face; at the stabbing sense of betrayal being projected in her wounded, watery eyes. A combination of reds and blues danced before his sight, playing on his daughter’s anguish and injury at being so horribly deceived._

And she _has_ been betrayed; they all have been _, Ben lamented to himself, thinking painfully on his two other children whom he had yet to disclose this identity to._

 _How was he to go forward from here? It had been absurd, and yet, absolutely crucial to Ben to reveal himself to the children when they were taken hostage. Rey had been reluctant with his decision but supported him, nevertheless. He only wished she could be here now, occupying this cell with him at this very moment instead of being locked up where she was, to help their daughter better understand._

Get them out of here _, his conscience reminded him, willing him not to crumble._ Get them home. They _have_ to trust you.

 _Revealing the face behind Kylo Ren hadn’t been in Ben’s plans, but with his wife and children unexpectedly snatched by the Proclamation, a dire situation forced the double agent’s hand. It was the only way to gain their confidence—or so he had argued to Rey when the idea was proposed—and he was forced to keep reiterating that end goal to himself before entering Amidala’s cell._ _He had thought Amidala might take the news better than the younger ones, though, and if_ this _was the gut-wrenching reaction he was to expect from the littler ones he so loved as well, how could he possibly tell Han and Astrid, too?_

_Ben clenched his jaw and finally replied, his voice strained and subdued, “I… I did what I had to do, Ami.”_

_Amidala’s brow furrowed, not following. “So…you became this – this monster? You became Commander of the Proclamation? You joined the Dark Side?_ How could you, Dad _?”_

_“Ami—”_

_“They’re evil!_ YOU _‘RE EVIL!”_

 _Brought up short by that acid remark, Ben saw no point in disputing it. His daughter may be young and naïve about most things, but she was correct on this one: he_ was _evil. Well, Kylo Ren was the epitome of everything worth despising._

 _“I…” Ben started, but the words he needed were nowhere to be found. He struggled to keep his gaze steady and on Amidala; to keep his mind on the intent. “You’re right, little star,” he bemoaned and slightly slumped his shoulders, “Kylo Ren_ is _evil but… But I’m not. I promise you, I’m not…”_

_“That doesn’t make any sense!” she choked, pushing her back farther into the corner._

_“Ami, what I do I do to protect you, your sister, your brother, and your mother—”_

_“Protect me?” Amidala startled Ben by cracking up. The laughter was crazed rather than whimsical and childlike, unlike the sound that normally made the reformed Jedi’s heart lighter to hear. “By plotting Darkness and destroying planets and—”_

_“Ami, listen—”_

_“—and killing any of those who stand in the Proclamation’s path?” she screamed over him. “Kylo Ren is an enemy of the Resistance and a murderer!_ YOU _‘RE A MURDERER!”_

 _“_ I’m not that person, Ami _!” Ben beseeched before going abruptly silent, barely able to utter a soft-pleading, “Not… Not anymore.” He lowered his gaze at last, unable to bear the hatred and resentment swarming in Amidala’s judgmental eyes._

_“How can you say that? Just look at you!” She gave a defining jolt to the negative energy that was coiling about the room, prompting Ben to swiftly raise his eyes. If her emotions spiralled out of control, there was no telling what her Force-sensitive powers might unleash, and that was the last thing Ben wanted._

_Amidala gave a dramatic sweep of her arm, too caught up in the trauma of seeing her father dressed as Kylo Ren to notice the fluctuating energy, emphasising the chilly black robes he wore; that unmistakable mask that had, for so long, concealed his identity; the deadly cross-saber positioned in its hoister on his right side. She stared up at him, disbelief and fury flashing across her young face. “M – Mum said you were on our side! You both made me believe—”_

_“I_ am _on your side, Ami! I swear it!”_

_“NO, YOU’RE NOT! YOU’RE A LIAR IS WHAT YOU ARE!”_

_Deflated, Ben sighed and turned away from her. He flung his mask with more force than he had intended and it landed on the duracrete floor, with a deafening series of thuds that matched the shattered relationship between father and daughter; but Ben didn’t care if his disguise was further damaged. He needed to get his family to safety; he needed Amidala to put her trepidation and resentment aside long enough to simply see this escape operation through._

_“Yes, I’m a liar,” he confessed without meeting her hardened gaze, clenching his jaw as he broke down. “I’m not who you thought I was, Ami. I have a past that will disgust and disappoint you. I’ve done unforgivable things; things you don’t yet know about. Kylo Ren is a part of my past._

_“I… I’ve changed, though, Ami. Of that, I swear to you it’s true!” He turned his head towards her, detesting the revulsion still reeling about her. Still, he wouldn’t blame her for hating him. “I’m sorry, Ami… I’m so sorry for not being the father you deserve. I’ve tried to be; I’ve tried to be better._

_“And I’m sorry for springing this on you but…it was the only way to get you to follow my lead. Without my help, you, your sister, your brother, and your mother will never make it out of here alive, do you understand? I know I don’t deserve it but I_ need _you to trust me. I want to get you out of here, but you and your brother and sister_ need _to see who I am or there would be no way I could convince the three of you to go along with the plan! Can’t you see?”_

_“We don’t need your help!” Amidala snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at him with such loathing that Ben found it alarmingly uncanny; had he not thrown his mother and father that look of pure abhorrence on more than one occasion?_

Now you can surely understand how they must have felt _, he reckoned, finding the similarity excruciating to swallow. “Yes, you_ do _, Ami,” he attempted to reason with her. He drew closer, ignoring Amidala’s unwavering distemper. “This Star base is too vast and too polluted with personnel for you to get far on your own. You’d never make it to the main hanger. Not without my assistance.”_

_Amidala pursed her lips, vexed by that point of contention, and looked away. “I’ll do whatever Mum wants us to do,” she consented, though bitterly. “Not you.”_

_Ben sighed. He would take it. It was a start—a meagre acknowledgement of (somewhat) compliance—so he chanced inclining nearer still. Amidala kept herself firmly rooted to the corner of her cell, refusing to meet his pleading eyes._

_“I need to speak to your brother and your sister, and then your mother and I will devise how best to get you out of here, all right?”_

_Amidala stubbornly abstained from answering him. Ben, quickly tiring of his daughter’s negative energy, and the fact that she wasn’t doing anything about it, used his Force sensitivity to lash out at its advancement. It curled up and backed out of the room, much like a person who has been smacked across the face. Amidala started, blinked, and cast her heated eyes upon her father at last, taken aback by his swipe at her energy but, also, that she hadn’t noticed how out of control it had gotten until now._

_“All right?” she heard him repeat to her in a much stricter fashion._

_After a tense pause, Amidala offered a defeated-sounding, “Fine. Whatever.”_

_Ben wasn’t finished, though. “Ami,” he whispered, yearning, hoping against hope that he hadn’t permanently damaged his relationship with his eldest child. She stared at him, waiting for him to speak but without any lesser hostility. “I know you’re angry with me—you have every right to be—but I need you to put that aside for the time being and not let this cloud your judgment. Please… Until you’re safe and far away from here, you’re Force sensitive powers can get you into a whole mess of trouble; trouble I may not be able to get you out of, do you hear me? You_ must _stay sharp and… And listen to your mother, if not me. Do you understand?”_

_Amidala wavered, leaving Ben momentarily uncertain if she would get fresh with him again, scorn him for being a ‘monster’ (which was no less than he figured he deserved), or readily comply as he hoped she would. Finally, after what felt like an age, she lowered her arms and let a few lingering tears slip down her cheeks. Deeply upset, she silently nodded her head, offering her wordless consent._

_It took all of Ben’s energy to turn on the spot and leave. He had hoped to hug it out—to provide his daughter the comfort and confidence she so sorely deserved—but she didn’t seem to want anything from him but his absence. He forced each foot backward and, with tremendous difficulty, turned his back, picked up his mask from the ground, and stalked to the door._

_Her choking sobs stopped him short of exiting. At her muffled cries, he spun around, distressed, and found that Amidala had sunk to the floor and curled herself into a protective ball. She began violently sobbing into her chest, her face hidden from view, but the anguished cries of his child were enough to plummet Ben’s wherewithal, trying as it was, to walk out._

_Ben rushed forward and knelt before her, pushing his mask aside, though Amidala was crying too hard and too forcefully to detect how close he was to her. Without any painstaking caution this time, Ben eased his hands around her quivering shoulders and left several fervent kisses atop her head. “I’m so sorry, Ami.” He pushed the words out, finding his voice hoarse and the process of speaking a monumental effprt. “I never wanted to hurt you. I promise you, I’ll explain everything. There’s no time now, but I_ will _make this up to you. You have my word, all right?” He heard her sobs quiet a little and stated, in a throaty, stricken whisper, “I love you…so much…”_

_Ben pecked the top of her head one last time and reluctantly pulled away from her, only to find his efforts suspended by Amidala, who tore at the fabric on his arms and yanked him back to her side. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and let her continue to cry into his chest. A minute or so later she replied tearfully in return, “I love you, too, Dad.”_

_Ben burrowed his own tears behind all of his daughter’s long hair and gently rocked them back and forth._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Amidala leaned her head against one of the walls of her cell. Perhaps, she should attempt meditation? Her mind and body were understandably anxious and on edge. She unconsciously chewed the inside of her cheek and rocked back and forth. Neither coping mechanism put her any more at ease, though.

 _Relax. Mum’s here… Da— He’s here… Everything’s going to be okay._ Amidala let forth a worrisome sigh and closed her eyes, loosening her shoulders and wringing her hands before resting them on top of her crossed legs. _Think of the ocean… Remember how they always described it? Clear, azure waters… Clean, fresh air… That ocean breeze, soft and salty as it tickles your neck—_

_‘Ami?’_

Amidala’s breathing stalled and her eyes flew open. She inadvertently searched the room for any signs of life, knowing full-well that no one was there; but something _was_ there. She rolled her shoulders and straightened her seated posture. _‘Go away,’_ she commanded as assertively as her frightened demeanour could muster.

 _‘Why?’_ it answered back, sounding fraudulently crestfallen and weak. _‘What have I done now?’_

_‘Nothing. Just… Just go away.’_

_‘You have no need of me?’_

_‘No.’_ She wasn’t aware of holding her breath which wouldn’t allow for proper concentration—at least, not for long. _‘I’ve told you: I want nothing from you.’_

_‘Yes, you do… Search your feelings.’_

_‘Go away,’_ she ordered again, sensing an uneasy pressure against the tip of her mind.

_‘I’m always here, Ami. I’ll always be here. You can’t so easily send me away.’_

_‘You can’t threaten me.’_

_‘That wasn’t a threat, my dear. Shall I give you an example of one of my threats?’_

Amidala inched back, though her spine was met by impenetrable durasteel. _‘No, please,’_ she begged, her heart racing like a speeder desperate to outrun its chaser.

_‘Then don’t speak that way to me again.’_

She gulped and waited, the dreadful silence caving in on her like a shadow swallows light. Finally, she asked, _‘Wha – What is it you want?’_

_‘You know what I’ve come for.’_

_‘No! I… I can’t! I can’t deliver what you want, do you hear? I’ve told you already! Just leave me alone!’_

An uneasy, reverberating snarl met that remark. _‘My patience grows thin with you, little Padawan.’_

_‘I’ve never promised you anything!’_

_‘_ I _‘ve promised you everything you could ever want, you ungrateful little brat!’_

_”Ungrateful’? How can I be ungrateful when I’ve told you that I’m not interested!’_

_‘Then why do you keep me hanging about,_ Girl _? Why won’t you rid yourself of me once and for all?’_

 _‘I… I can’t.’_ She frowned, shivering at the uncomfortable chill that now contaminated the air.

Darkness smiled, prodding at her innocent soul and teasing her will. _‘You need me,’_ it snickered, triumphant. _‘You want what I’m offering you. No more stalling, Ami. No more games. I’ve tired of them.’_

_‘I… No. Please…’_

_‘Let me willingly in, and no harm will come to you. Deny me this time and I can assure you, it won’t be pleasant.’_

Amidala shoved back tears. She always suspected it might come to this; it was why her instincts had pleaded with her from the very start to get as far away from this base as possible. Now, she was stuck, unable to break free of her mental prison and in complete isolation, far removed from her parents’ much-needed protection. Her impulse was to cry out to them—to beg for their help—but, ultimately, how much good would it do?

 _None_ , her mind concluded, resigned. _It will only hurt them more that they can’t prevent it._

Amidala sucked in a nervous breath and bent her knees to her chest. _‘F – Fine,’_ she surrendered, relinquishing only some of her mental blocks to the Darkness which responded with unmitigated glee. Violent reds swirled and crouched before her sight, and then the pressure on her mind became as sharp as a blade. She gasped and hugged her knees, flinching as it rummaged abusively through her mind, hungrily probing for what it desired most.

It soon let forth a frustrated growl of epic proportions. _‘TELL ME,’_ it ordered, causing her to shake and recoil, _‘WHO IS YOUR FATHER?’_


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 8**

_“He folded his fear into a perfect rose. He held it out in the palm of his hand. She took it from him and put it in her hair.”_  
—Arundhati Roy

* * *

_Rey awoke with a powerful jerk, the sensation of spiralling through a timeless black hole hitting her hard in the stomach. She bolted upright in bed, panting madly, and whipped her head back and forth, only to find nothing abnormal or askew in her dark space._

_As gravity swiftly caught up with her fuzzy eyesight, Rey groaned at the wave of dizziness and sleep deprivation that smacked her like a blaster aimed at the centre of her skull. She gingerly rubbed her forehead in protest._ Damn it. How long have I been out? An hour? Maybe two?

_Rey wasn’t sure when exactly she had dozed off, but she was certain that the sun had hit the horizon when her heavy eyelids finally fell shut. She had meant to stay awake all night, however, and sighed in annoyance at her blunder._ Well…you’re still alive and breathing, aren’t you? _she told herself, thoroughly surprised, in fact, to find that to be the case._

_Shuffling to the next room over (and in the opposite direction of Kylo Ren’s) forced Rey’s weary eyes to open wider. The mouth-watering aroma of breakfast simmering, the light scraping of utensils against tin platters, and Master Luke’s soft self-chatter infiltrated the Padawan’s awakening senses and, with that, Rey was crawling out of bed and headed for her meal. She grumbled as she staggered and swayed her way towards the sitting area, throwing back the curtain to inhale another divine whiff of that pre-breakfast smell._

_To her utter surprise, Master Luke_ and _Kylo Ren were sitting cross-legged on the floor once more in front of the wooden kitchen table, as though the scene were entirely normal, with the small fireplace in the corner emitting some much needed heat into their tight-knit quarters._

_Master Luke halted whatever he was in the midst of muttering to Kylo and both men turned their gazes onto the last grumpy member of their little trio to rise and greet the morn. “Ahhh, Rey,” acknowledged Master Luke thoughtfully, ushering her forward with a wave of his hand. “I was just about to fix you a plate. I’m afraid there’s not much left. I gave most of our portions to Ben here, seeing as he never ate last night. Come, sit. I’ll dish you out what’s left.”_

_Rey conveyed her appreciation through a grunt and plopped down opposite Kylo, making sure to scowl and divert her attention to anywhere else in the small space but the fallen Jedi’s maddening presence. There wasn’t much else for her eyes to settle on, unfortunately. Master Luke’s hut, though larger than the others, was plain and devoid of personal belongings, containing only the essentials and nothing else noteworthy…sans its occupants._

_“I see you didn’t get much sleep,” Kylo pointed out once Master Luke had disappeared into the kitchenette._

_Rey blinked and ogled her adversary, put off by the drone from that mechanical voice contraption. Why was he even addressing her? “I see you still haven’t saw fit to remove your mask,” she muttered in return, giving an off-putting nod to his chrome-shaped cover-up. “Why? Afraid to look us in the eye, perhaps?”_

_Kylo spat nothing sarcastic in return which Rey found a tad shocking. Maybe, like her, he was too tired for a row just yet. He kept an intense regard on her, however, his Dark energy swerving, and yet, remarkably tame as compared to when he had first arrived on the island. Even her slight provocation hadn’t wobbled his spitfire energy. Yet._

_When Master Luke ambled back into the room a minute later, Rey was unnerved that Kylo still hadn’t cast his attention away from her. The aged Jedi, on the other hand, seemed entirely oblivious to the new tension now hovering in the room; or, if he was aware of its presence, he was purposely avoiding paying it mind. Instead, he encouraged Rey to “eat up!”_

_Rey didn’t hesitate. She had just taken her first large bite of food when Kylo made a sudden move that had her eyes instantly fixing on him, this time with alarm and suspicion. She didn’t reach for her lightsaber, though, for he quickly revealed both gloved hands, neither of which were armed. Rather, they were drifting towards his mask. Its mechanisms warped and clicked out of joint at his light touch. Then he pulled the seal back from his face, revealing a startling sight that turned the meshed spoonful of oats seated on Rey’s tongue to ash._

The scar… _Rey had all but forgotten about the violent facial laceration she had given Kylo the first time they had duelled one another months prior on Starkiller base._ How could you forget about the scar?

_“Lucky for you,” came his snippy response to her private thoughts. Unlike his voice, his hard, pallid countenance was void of much emotion. “I, on the other hand, am not so fortunate as to conveniently forget this.” He gestured to the unsightly, brutal marking that ran diagonally across the length of his face, from his brow to his broad nose to his right cheek and stopped around his jawline. He turned to his full platter of food, ignoring Rey._

That _made Rey even more uncomfortable. Was that why he had kept his mask on: because of his scar; a scar she had forever tainted him with? A pang of guilt eroded at some of the hatred that had been bubbling and building within the walls of her chest, and yet, his snide remark reinforced to Rey_ why _she had been led to do what she did. It had all been in self-defence, after all, and Rey reminded herself of that sobering fact as she, at last, swallowed the first bite of her breakfast._

_“What do you want?” she baited after she had recovered from her start; those hair-raising, hauntingly dark eyes flickered to her in a flash. “An apology? After trying to kill me, you expect_ me _to feel remorse for the scar I left you with?” Her bright eyes narrowed, boring resentfully into his. “You deserve what you got.”_

_Kylo’s complete lack of a reaction took Rey further aback, for he merely stared, neither with outrage nor incredulity. She blinked several times before binding her lips together, realising that he had no intention of fighting her on her words. Their exchange was discomforting enough that Rey wound up blushing. She wanted to say something else that might worsen the blow but held back her tongue. She could only hope it wasn’t more unnecessary guilt keeping her animosity at bay, for Kylo Ren was the last individual in all of the damned galaxy who deserved an ounce of her pity._ Rather, if anyone should be apologising, it should be _him_! _Rey argued._

_Finding their stare down evermore uneasy, Rey resumed chomping her food, with a great deal more severity, and only chanced brief glances at Kylo throughout the next several awkward, tense-filled minutes. The sounds that occasionally broke the stillness were the clanging of utensils against plates or mouths nibbling on food. Master Luke cleared his throat and moved his meshed oats around his platter but ate very little. Kylo, too, reluctantly grazed at his breakfast but, soon, tore into it, losing sense of any previous propriety. Evidently, his empty stomach was getting the better of his stubborn resolve not to accept Master Luke’s offerings._

_Rey quietly snorted at that. She had no idea what Master Luke planned to serve their unwanted guest next, but she could only pray that it might be poison._

*** * ***

_Apparently, Rey’s desperate prayers weren’t to be granted. She groaned as she followed Master Luke and Kylo out of the hut that morning and onto the fresh, rolling hillside, the piercing ocean breeze thrashing against any of their exposed skin like tiny shards of glass. Rey did her best to ignore the icy chill, for Master Luke had something in mind to teach her today and, although she was hesitant about going along with whatever the befuddling man had in store, especially if any of it involved Kylo Ren, she would reservedly tag along out of mere curiosity, forcing each step in front of the other._

_They didn’t have to walk far. Master Luke stopped near the start of the hill, prompting Kylo and Rey to halt in their tracks, too. Rey took several additional paces sideways, glaring at Kylo out of the corner of her eye. He had placed his mask back on his face once they exited the hut but still looked entirely out of his element, probably as confounded and uncomfortable as her by the look of his slanted, clamped posture. He stood immobile, like an airtight compartment, compromised strictly of black robes that billowed as flighty as his emotional state had proven so far._

_“Now then,” Master Luke began rather jovially, placing his walking stick against one arm so that he could clap his hands together. Rey raised a perplexed eyebrow. What the hell was there to be cheerful about? “I want you to practice channelling one another’s Light energy. Rey, you’ve been working on this for some time; you know what to do.” He turned to Kylo and his conduct was a little stiffer. “Ben, um… I know it’s been some time since you’ve, erm, well… Since you’ve attempted any use of the Light side of the Force but—”_

_“I have no need of your lectures, old man,” he interrupted, with churlish disregard. “I’ve heard them all one-too many times before.”_

_Master Luke lowered his eyes a fraction. “Yes, well…” He croaked and, flustered, settled for silence._

_“Then what are you waiting for?” Rey proposed, purposely goading Kylo on. That earned her his direct attention; his mask slightly swerved towards her. “That is, if you know everything there is to know then let’s get started, shall we?”_

_There was a short, heightened pause and then Kylo answered, his deep register as equally provocative and baleful-sounding as hers, “As you wish.”_

_“Just a moment!” Master Luke made to butt in, throwing his hands up in the air, but he was speedily overruled by his younger, combative company._

_In the next suspenseful seconds, Rey had raised her arm, Kylo following marginally thereafter, and the two were suddenly grasping at air, their straightened arms trembling and their fingers furling and unfurling as they focused, fixated, on the seemingly empty gap that lay between them. Though Kylo’s mask made his face unreadable, his stance was anchored and concentrated, mirroring Rey’s twisted expression and furrowed brow._

_At first, Rey sought to clutch Kylo’s Light as her master had instructed, but she quickly drew back, stumped by its near invisibility. Its luminosity was about as effective as a few specks of dust captured under a spotlight, and both its miniature size and lack of brilliance caught Rey off her guard. It paled in comparison to Master Luke’s Light Force, the only other Force-sensitive person with whom she had ever practiced this exercise with._

Shouldn’t you be more shocked that he has any Light left in him at all? _her shrewd conscience advised, countering the initial shock to this discovery, to which Kylo hissed with displeasure._

_On the other hand, Rey’s immense ball of Light overshadowed the space separating them, dancing like the sun itself and effortlessly feeding on Kylo’s far weaker positive energy, much like an adult might allure a cantankerous child in with the promise of an abundance of sweets. Every time Kylo drew a touch closer to Rey’s brilliance, her Light would evade him, fluttering away and taunting his thirst._

_It wasn’t long before Kylo tired of the mental exercise. With a blood-curdling growl, he made a sudden lurch for Rey’s Light, wrestling for a simple fraction of its source. His parched, deprived energy hungered for it, clawing and fighting to make it submit. His energy rapidly deteriorated into a wild, untamed beast, startling Rey and mounting her mental shields. She fought back, lips curling into a ferocious Nexu-like snarl, her teeth bared and clenched._

_Her Light pawed at Kylo, striking him with such force that he physically lost his balance. He teetered backward a few steps and, defeated, dropped his hand to his side._

_The connection was severed, with Rey’s Light skidding to return to her side. Both she and Kylo were panting, their bodies clenched as they stared one another down, motionless and…perplexed. Sweat had broken out on Rey’s forehead, but she wasn’t yet aware of how challenging a mental exercise she had undertaken. Too distracting was Kylo—or what she could discern from that damnable mask of his—listening to his perturbed, erratic breaths and pointed glances that reverted from her to a pensive-looking Master Luke and back to her again._

_“Well…” Master Luke’s voice penetrated the disquieting silence. Rey’s eyes fell to her teacher, seeking counsel, but he was gazing at the centre between them and stroking his grey, bristly beard. “That was…not what I wanted, Ben…” Rey didn’t miss how Kylo’s broad shoulders expanded and his hands fisted into two impenetrable balls. Otherwise, he remained still. Master Luke blinked, as if coming out of a trance, and turned directly to his nephew, issuing a critical frown Rey recognised; she had been on the receiving end of that ‘look’ more times than she cared to recount. “The idea was for you to_ channel _Rey’s Light, not try to steal it from her.”_

_“I wasn’t trying to ‘steal’ anything!” he snapped, clearly nettled by the accusation which Rey couldn’t help but find amusing._

_Despite the foreboding communication device coming from the man’s veil, that full-blown exasperation made Kylo sound more like a petulant child on the verge of a temper tantrum than the highly feared Commander of the First Order. Evidently, she was the only one of the three to find it humouring._

_“Then what were you trying to accomplish?” Master Luke pressed, with calmness and levelheaded authority._

_“I…” Kylo sharply turned his head, facing Rey head-on, but whatever he intended to say vanished. “Forget it.” He waved his hand at her dismissively. “This has been a waste of my time.”_

_Rey easily rose to Kylo’s instigating words. “Oh, yeah?_ Then why are you still here _?”_

_Kylo’s fists coiled tighter still. His negative energy seethed and resurfaced but with an enhanced fury not previously unleashed. “It’s no concern of_ yours _, scavenger scum!”_

_Rey’s eyes were ablaze. She recklessly hunched forward into a pre-pounce position. Kylo, too, threw back his shoulders and squared off against her, ready for Duel Number Three._

_“_ ‘Scavenger scum’ _?” she hissed and started to glide towards him. “Why, you stuck up, hideous, vile—”_

_“_ That’s enough _!”_

_All of sudden, Master Luke’s blue lightsaber had been drawn, blistering the crackles and sparks igniting between his prickly nephew and feisty apprentice. His arm reached out in front of Rey to both protect and prevent her advance._

_Drawing out of her angry stupor, Rey realised that Master Luke’s lightsaber was what had, also, inevitably stopped Kylo from taking her on. Their fight would have surely been dealt with by use of their bare hands, which made Rey feel all the more foolish for reacting as she had, animal-like and savage._

_Kylo projected what Rey could only describe as another one of his ruthless stares, with that vulgar mask of his acting as a shield, before he spun around and stormed off in the opposite direction. Rey crossed her arms, content to watch him go._ Hopefully he’ll actually leave the bleedin’ island! _she nearly sputtered out loud._

_Master Luke lowered his defences, sighed, and retrieved his walking stick. Rey was glad that her somewhat senseless teacher had, at least, decided not to go after his mental case of a nephew this time. He, too, watched Kylo march to the edge of the cliff and glare out at the ravage seas, unmoving. When the Jedi spoke up, he sounded both gutted and sympathetic, uttering to Rey above the relentless roar of the winds, “Well, that could’ve gone worse, I suppose…”_

_Rey snorted and turned to him, dismayed. “You should’ve let me have a go at him.”_

_“And risk you falling prey to his Darkness?” he took her aback by retorting, giving her another one of his disapproving look overs. His obvious lack of faith brought Rey up short and made her feel considerably smaller than moments earlier. “No, I don’t think so, Rey.”_

_“But I wouldn’t!”_

_“Sometimes your hatred clouds your ability to see, young Padawan. You’re very capable, Rey, and you’ve come far in only a matter of months, but you have a long way to go before you will ever truly be free of the Darkness’ seduction. Don’t underestimate its power.”_

_“I… I won’t—”_

_“And don’t overestimate your own competence. Overconfidence is a weakness and can only lead to trouble.”_

_Rey tightened her jaw and chose to go on the defence. “And what about your nephew?” she challenged, nodding to the stark, swirling silhouette stubbornly staring at the horizon where the overcast sky met the stormy sea. “What about_ him _? You saw how he tried to take my Light from me! He was unruly and out of control!”_

_Master Luke’s face fell. It was so remarkably sombre and sad that Rey recoiled. “He didn’t want to take away your Light, Rey…” he whispered; she blinked at her master, confused by his assessment of what had transpired. “You see, Ben wants so desperately to be a part of it again; a part of the Light. His soul has been deprived of it for so long that its become a dangerous craving; a terrible hunger for something he’s cruelly denied himself. He’s punished himself for that craving. Over and over again. There’s a difference.”_

_He stared thoughtfully at Kylo’s unyielding shadow in the distance. Rey, too, fixed the fallen Jedi with a fresh gaze of her own, one now riddled with new doubts. “I… I was trying to get him to admit that for himself, but he’s just not ready to face the truth. This will take time; more time than I thought.”_

_Master Luke slowly moseyed away from Rey’s side, his idle steps eventually leading him back into their shared hut. Rey’s feet rooted themselves to the ground, however, her eyes hooked on the colossal contour of Kylo Ren, who seemed to have no intentions of moving from his spot near the ledge of the hillside anytime soon._

_Was what Master Luke had said true? Had her own animosity and distaste for Kylo Ren genuinely prevented her from differentiating between a man’s yearning to return to the Light versus wanting to simply swallow it whole?_

_For the first time in pondering the disturbing persona that was Kylo Ren, a man whom Rey believed to be a true maniac and nothing more, she couldn’t decide. That didn’t mean she was convinced of Master Luke’s sanity; or that Kylo Ren had had an abrupt change of heart in his short time on Ahch-To._

_‘There’s a difference,’ her master’s words kept ringing in Rey’s fuddled mind._

Yeah, well, best we find out sooner rather than later what Kylo Ren’s ‘difference’ in character and intentions _really_ are…before we wind up as bait for Snoke!

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Astrid shivered and pulled her fragile, bent legs more securely to her chest. Her holding cell was freezing and hollow, but it wasn’t the frigid drop in temperature that saw the skittish five-year old snaking her arms around her little knees in order to give herself a protective, reassuring hug. She would have preferred the warm arms of her mother or her father right now, but they were nowhere to be found.

_Mummy… Daddy…_

Wearing a troubled frown, the small child nestled her head on top of a durasteel bench attached to one of the corners of the wall and unconsciously chewed on her bottom lip, waiting. There seemed to be a _lot_ of waiting involved in this mean-spirited place where her father resided, and its adverse energy gave Astrid what her brother tended to call ‘the creeps’.

Occasional eerie squeaks and strange, fluttering noises caused her heart rate to accelerate and her frightened, wide eyes to dart about the room, searching for the source of the sounds; but she never found anything—or anyone—that was there. As soon as she allowed herself to relax—well, at the very least, chanced loosening her self-embrace—she would hear another unwelcoming whisper and the panic would snowball all over again.

Footsteps came and went but never stopped in front of Astrid’s cell. Voices trickled in and out of register but never resembled someone she knew and loved. They certainly didn’t carry the love of her mother’s or her father’s nor Han’s or Amidala’s voices.

Where were they? Were her sister and brother all right? When would her parents come for her, as her father had before, and get her out of here?

_Like last time_ , Astrid bewailed, curling herself into a compact ball whilst whimpering against the bone-chilling silence that answered. She was sorely tempted to cry out for him— _Daddy…_ —though she wasn’t sure how; but then she remembered being in that scary control room hours earlier and seeing him disguised as that ‘other person’—that haunting, macabre character with the black mask that contained no eyes—and having his ghostly, volatile energy shut her down. _That_ had shaken Astrid to her core and she smartly chose against making another go of it.

_Is he mad at me? What did I do?_ She tried to recall what her mother had instilled in them quietly as they were led away, about how everything was ‘going to be all right’; but she also remembered her mother’s stern command not to engage with their father at the time. _But…_ why _?_ she wondered, receiving less and less clarity for her proposed questions.

Astrid stared at the large shadows that lined her cell, ominous as they intently blocked the light. Why had her father done that to her? Her parents and sister often spoke about something called ‘the Force’—an energy that one couldn’t see, only feel—and her father’s own energy, as it came down hard upon her in that moment, hadn’t felt at all good…or fatherly. There were no traces of the warmth and attachment and fierce, protective love she understood. In fact, its aversion and coldness had terrified her, for its forbearance was wholly unlike the last encounter she had had with him before the family made their first failed escape.

_‘Kylo Ren’ had made an unanticipated entrance in Astrid’s cell, sending the poor girl scurrying into a corner in fright. As soon as her cell door closed, however, he promptly removed his mask, and Astrid was startled out of her terror and, rather, instantly soothed by the surprise realisation that he was, in fact, her father._

_“Daddy!” she squeaked and instantly strove out of the shadowy corner to which she had retreated._

_Ben knelt down before her to allow Astrid to catapult into his mighty arms which then swooped forward to surround her and hoist the tot off the ground. She squeezed her much daintier arms around his neck and inhaled a comforting smack of his scent; a fragrance that echoed of what she only knew as fatherly affections._

_Ben was the first to rear back and survey his youngest. Astrid’s innocent, charming face looked understandably addled once it met his. Her arms remained folded around his neck and her curious, perturbed eyes scanned him up and down several times, not quite comprehending his disguise._

_“I don’t understand,” she said simply, citing his disturbing attire, “why are you dressed like this, Daddy?”_

_Ben brought his face closer to hers and whispered, in all seriousness, “No one knows, little star, and I’m afraid it must remain that way.”_

_Astrid’s eyebrows drew together. “But Mummy? Astrid? Han?”_

_“They know, little star, but_ no one else _can know about this.”_

_“Why?” She exercised a hushed tone as well, craning her neck to touch her tiny nose to his. “Why are you dressed like_ him _, Daddy?”_

_Ben couldn’t have felt more grateful to receive Astrid’s innocent, straightforward inquiries about his counterpart, Kylo Ren, than at that moment. Confronting Amidala had been detrimental moments ago, Han’s reaction less so but still unfortunate, whereas Astrid alone acted oblivious to the most ruthless and merciless tyrant in all the galaxy, with the exception of Snoke himself. She was merely intrigued and puzzled by his guise, not judgmental._

_That didn’t mean that his littlest wasn’t clever enough to perceive on her own that whoever Kylo Ren was, he wasn’t a man to be trusted nor to be presumed to be on their side. Her uncertainty lingered, her wholesome eyes searching his and seeking clarity._

_“It’s a cover, little star,” Ben tried to explain for her in simple terms, though Astrid wasn’t about to let him off the hook so readily._

_“A cover for what, Daddy?”_

_“For the Resistance.”_

_“Oh!” Astrid’s face lifted into a smile at the mention of the Resistance. “That’s good! Mummy and Grandma are with the Resistance!”_

_“That’s correct, little star, but it’s imperative that no one here know that_ I _‘m a part of it, too. Do you understand?”_

_Astrid nodded emphatically. “Okay!”_

_Unconvinced, Ben surveyed the youth in his arms at length, stressing, with more earnest, “That means you can’t refer to me as ‘Daddy’ in this place, Astrid. Not in front of anyone else, you see?”_

_Astrid’s grin flopped. “Oh… It’s a secret?”_

_“Yes,” Ben emphasised, “a very important secret. If anyone was to find out who I really am, little star, I could get into big trouble.”_

_Astrid’s eyes widened in concern. “‘Big trouble’, Daddy?”_

_“Oh, yes,” he insisted, the gravity of his words seeming to stick._

_Astrid let forth a sweet gasp. “I won’t tell, Daddy, I promise!”_

_Ben snuggled her closer. “Will you keep my secret safe, little star?”_

_“Yes, Daddy!” She hugged him to illustrate her commitment._

_Ben leaned in to affectionately nuzzle and peck Astrid’s button nose in appreciation. “Thank you, little star._ Thank you _.”_

Astrid’s frown deepened. The silence in her cell was deafening, suppressing, and she didn’t understand why. She needed to get out of this depressing room. She needed her father’s reassurance more than anything; perhaps, one of his tight, all-consuming hugs or hearty kisses that had lifted her spirits.

_Like last time._

Then she felt it—that tingling, troublesome sensation of phantom-like fingers trailing over her face, tugging at her ears, and tapping at her forehead—and stilled. She couldn’t see them but she could _feel_ their presence, and her skin broke out in a series of goosebumps.

_Da – Daddy…_ Astrid softly whined into the darkness, despite the heavy warnings that had been conveyed to her in recent days about reaching out to him; she covered her ears with both hands and squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe if she kept them closed, she hoped, she wouldn’t be able to see whatever horror was haunting her cell, waiting for its chance to grab her. _Da – Daddy! Where are you? Mu – Mummy! PLEASE! HELP ME!_

To her stunned panic, an aberrant voice, wise and foreboding, responded to her repeated cries, coercing her startled eyes to open and her heart to pound with doom, _‘Tell me, my little wonder,’_ it murmured and Astrid could sense its crooked smile somewhere beyond her vision, _‘who is your father?’_


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> ****Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.** **

**Chapter 9**

_“I am terrified by this dark thing that sleeps in me.”_  
—Sylvia Plath

* * *

**Present Day**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

An unsettling series of images yanked General Organa from her post, disrupting the grave conversation in play between her and her highest-ranking Resistance major and personnel. Her eyelids began fluttering. Disoriented, she stumbled forward and grabbed onto the worktable in front of her to prevent what would have wound up as a nasty tumble onto the floor, face first. She grasped the circular wood with both hands, her grip tight and white-knuckled. Her entire frame trembled for a few stressful moments to the audience of all of her watchful officers, catching everyone off guard.

Head Major Brance, one of Leia’s closest friends and confidants in recent years, was immediately by her side, one hand lightly bracing the back of her shoulder. “General?” he inquired, with worry. The others surrounding their work station, too, looked on with concern.

Leia dismissed their wide-eyed expressions, with a brisk shake of her head, and slowly drew upright. She inhaled a deep breath and Brance noted that she didn’t appear much improved. Her complexion was pasty, almost sickly-looking, and a panic permeated her normally reserved, collected brown irises.

“Are you _sure_ you’re all right?” he pressed her ever so quietly, maintaining a supportive hand upon her back.

“Yes, I – I’m fine,” Leia tried to assert herself, though her voice shook. She swallowed hard and insisted, this time in a much stronger tone, “Continue with your preparations, Major. I need to step outside for a moment to clear my head.”

Although not persuaded by Leia’s excuse, Brance nodded to his boss and gave a compliant, “Yes, Ma’am.” He turned to those closest to him and, in haste, they resumed their secretive discussions regarding their next plans of attack whilst Leia exited, unwatched.

Leia shuffled through a corridor and out the front door, taking a solemn moment to catch her balance and to appreciate the light breeze that feathered her cheeks. It soothed some of the angst that had swept over her without warning, though only a touch. She inhaled one more slow, steady breath in an effort to calm her nerves.

When she reopened her eyes, she was startled out of her reverie once more by the presence of another. “ _Luke_!” she gasped, an inviting smile, at once, lighting up her stoic face.

Lingering beside Leia in front of Resistance’s Headquarters was none other than her ever elusive brother, standing silent and still in his signature beige cloak and hood that was draped over much of his face, concealing his identity; but Leia would have recognised her twin brother in any attire he chose to don.

Without fail, Master Luke removed his hood and greeted her like old times, with a big hug and a welcoming, if mildly strained, smile. “You all right, sis?” he questioned after pulling back from their embrace, apprehension replacing his smile. “You don’t look so good.”

“I…” Leia found herself shifting back and forth, uneasy with the disturbance that had recently hit her.

Master Luke sensed the words that wouldn’t come, for his expression grew dark and pensive. “Then you felt it, too?” he whispered, to which Leia didn’t hesitate to open up, her voice hushed but frantic.

“Yes… A disturbance in the Force.”

Reading her rattled energy, Master Luke asked his sister, expressing with some urgency, “What did you see?”

“I… I saw Rey and the children. They were in trouble, Luke.”

“What sort of trouble?”

Leia unconsciously wove her arms around herself and expounded, her anxieties increasing as she spoke, “Rey’s Light… It – It seemed to be being choked out of her; it was horrifying… Astrid was crying out in the darkness. Something was attacking her. Then she just stopped moving. And Han… He was being pursued by someone with a cross-saber; someone whose face I couldn’t see. Ami, she…” Leia paused to hitch a shuddering breath. “She left us, Luke… She abandoned the Light to…to _him_.”

Master Luke stared on, seemingly reticent and unforthcoming. “And Ben?” he inquired after a rather pregnant pause.

Leia’s frown hardened. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see him in any of this. But I _did_ see…”

To Master Luke’s recollection, Leia had never looked more distressed, and that raised his own concerns several notches. “Go on, Leia,” he encouraged her.

“His lightsaber—Luke, the lightsaber he carries on him as Kylo Ren—it was the same one that…that struck Han.”

Master Luke diverted his gaze towards the ground for a lengthy period of time, lost in his thoughts, before eventually offering in a painful murmur, “I see…” that brought his sister no reassurance.

Leia swallowed and stepped forward. “Had you any sort of vision like this?”

“No… Just a sensation; a terrible feeling that the family is crying out for help.” Master Luke’s blue eyes scanned the hanger to his left. “Where’s Ben now?”

“As far as I know, at the enemy’s base. He hasn’t checked in for three days, but that’s normal for him.”

“Would he alert you if the family was in trouble?”

Leia’s shoulders tensed. Luke knew it well; it was a defence move. “ _Of course_ he would.”

“You’re certain, Leia?”

Leia’s expression went from anxious to anger. “Are you insinuating something, Luke?”

“Nothing at all.” The words sounded indifferent rather than accusatory, but Leia didn’t care for his accompanying tone. She watched her brother give the area another general calculated sweep, eyes bounding from ship to ship. “And where are Rey and the children now?”

Leia blinked, perplexed. “At home, I would presume.”

The worry that flew across Master Luke’s face answered Leia’s internal fears before he replied, “I’ve just come from there… No one’s home.”

Leia stepped back, still hugging herself and quite visibly shaken by this development. “Rey was running a short drop off for the Resistance two days ago, but she should have gone directly home after that.”

“Has she checked in at all with you?”

“No, but she _does_ have three kids to tend to, Luke—”

Master Luke put up a hand to halt Leia’s defences. “I would think nothing of it either, Leia, except Amidala and I were supposed to have a training session this morning and she and Rey never showed.”

Leia ceased moving side to side, staring on at Luke with utmost fear in her eyes. “You don’t think…?”

Maintaining his cool far better than Leia could in that dire moment, Master Luke reached out and squeezed her arm. “Your vision may be a warning and nothing more, Leia, but I fear Rey and the kids may be with the Proclamation now.”

Leia skidded out of his reach, her arms dropping to her sides. “Well, then we need to get them out of there! I’ll ready our fighters—”

“ _Leia, no_.”

“What?” She gaped at the collected Jedi as though he had gone spare. “ _Why_?”

“If Ben hasn’t communicated that he wants our interference, he may be trying to get them to safety himself. We don’t want to mess with his plans until we know more.” Anticipating Leia’s next hard-hitting question, he hurriedly suggested, “Let me see what I can find out before we send up any of our attackers to wage a fight.”

“ _How_?” Distress overtook every life line the former princess carried. “You’re not suggesting going to Proclamation’s Star base alone, are you?”

Much to her misgivings, Master Luke lips formed a devious smirk. “You know me too well, sis.”

“ _Luke, that’s absurd_!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “You’d never bypass their security clearance!”

“As if we haven’t found ways around that before…”

Leia’s gaze sharpened, so Master Luke sheepishly glanced at the stone steps; that unfavorable expression had the same weight and admonition as the one she had possessed in her younger years as well, though it had usually been reserved for her now late husband. “ _Don’t, Luke_ ,” she begged rather than warned, sensing her efforts were probably about to fall on deaf ears.

“It’s worth a try.”

“And if you get caught?”

Master Luke shot her a waning but encouraging smile. “Then we may be declaring war on the Proclamation sooner than we’d anticipated. Have your fighters at the ready.” At Leia’s upholding reservations, he reached out once more and clasped her hand. “I’ll be fine, Leia. We _need_ to try to reach Ben and Rey. Hopefully, he already has matters under control.”

Leia exhaled long and hard, unaware of having held her breath, and, with difficulty, nodded. “Yes, of course. Just…”

“I will,” he finished for her, comprehending what she couldn’t bring herself to utter.

“And don’t…”

“I won’t.”

Resigned, Leia gestured behind her, at the front of their headquarters. “Take Chewie with you. He’ll insist on accompanying you anyhow. There’s no reasoning with him anymore.”

Master Luke’s soft grin broadened. “Very well. I could use the Wookie’s help.”

Leia shook her head and climbed the steps to the front glass doors, calling over her shoulder as she went, “I’ll tell Chewie you’re here and have staff ready a ship for you.”

“My cruiser works just fine,” he groused.

“That thing’s a piece of junk,” she insisted whilst throwing open one of the heavy doors. “Wait here.”

Master Luke offered an appreciative bow, tossed the hood of his cloak back over top of his head, and strolled around the front of the concrete building to await preparations for his departure. His attention was momentarily stolen by a grand marble monument aligning the side entrance, where the majority of the Resistance’s ships were kept in an enclosed hanger. The monument had long ago been erected in Han Solo’s memory and Master Luke knew it well. He trekked closer, thoughtfully meditating on the simple letters etched into the exquisite limestone.

It was a considerable moment or two before he made a sound. “I miss you, my old friend,” he whispered. The wind responded, catching on his cloak and rippling the worn material.

Master Luke wasn’t aware of how long he stood in front of Han Solo’s monument, recalling their past harrowing adventures—and heated rows—in quiet contemplation, but he never heard the individual who next crept up behind him until its arms—gigantic and covered in fur—suddenly whisked around his front and shoved him into a compact, affable hug.

Its familiar vocals, which sounded like something akin to a moan and a cry, greeted Master Luke’s ears and he smiled gladly against the Wookie’s fur coat. “Hey, Chewie.”

“ _Narrggghhh_!” replied his dear friend.

Master Luke patted his arms in thanks. “You ready?”

“ _Rrrrhhmm_!”

Chewie released Master Luke so that he could turn around and face him, still all smiles, though the gravity in his eyes wasn’t lost on the brilliant Wookie. “It’s going to be dangerous,” he cautioned Chewie, who bore his fangs for teeth and met his warning with boisterous chuckling. Master Luke shook his head in defeat. “I should have known. C’mon.”

* * *

_Kylo shivered against the frigid wind that wrestled his garments and bundled his tattered scarf across his mouth and reddened nose. The breeze felt like whiplash against his alabaster skin, piercing the sensitive flesh beneath, with its furiously driven opposition to his presence._ This place will be the death of me _, he snorted internally, with sour humour, before scoffing at his own morbid thoughts,_ and _that_ wouldn’t be such a terrible thing, would it?

_Despite his pigheadedness that told him to remain where he was and keep his mask off, Kylo’s teeth were starting to clatter. The weather on this island was dismal, not to mention its presence a spoil to his precious time and energy._ Curse it! _he snarled, mirroring the wind’s ire._

_Kylo knew he should never have come here. He should never have surrendered to Uncle Luke’s telepathic call in the first place…and so effortlessly at that. He was made of stronger stuff than visits with old ghosts; or, so, he kept telling himself when he was alone with his nonplus musings._

_He hadn’t informed his master of where he was—yet—but there was still time._ Still time to tell him that I’ve uncovered Luke Skywalker’s and the girl’s whereabouts…

_Had it been insecure curiosity that had led Kylo to this secluded island from years’ past in order to bear witness to how his aged uncle was now thwarting away his golden years: in isolation and ruin?_ No… _Kylo understood the reasons that had brought him to this pivotal moment in time, though the turning point at hand terrified him out of his wits. It was too much, too surreal and precarious to wrap his tarnished soul around._

_Kylo’s paranoid conscience wanted to believe that he was somehow being led astray against his will; that his uncle and that headstrong apprentice of his were setting him up. Perhaps, they were. Yet, if that was the case, it didn’t matter to him, even if his heart suspected that there was no foul play._

_Kylo wasn’t about to take a chance on intuition, though. His heart wasn’t in use anymore. The Darkness had no need for sentimentality and affections. It may have thrived on emotions, but they were not to be wasted on triviality such as those who weren’t worthy of them._

If Uncle Luke and the girl wish to end this here then so be it. _Kylo squinted at the murky darkness, trying to make out where the horizon line met nightfall. He could no longer spot the water’s edge._

Uncle Luke… _To Kylo’s recollection, the elderly, grey-bearded man hardly resembled his old, self-assured uncle, and it wasn’t mere age that had evidently worn him thin._ No…

_Uncle Luke had once been quite the presence, particularly in Kylo’s young life; someone whom he had greatly admired and looked up to as a child, not only as a Jedi Master but as a parental figure of sorts, since his own mother and father had up and left him. At least, that’s how_ Kylo _saw the scarred matter that had changed the course of his future, setting things in motion that could no longer be undone._

_Upon laying eyes on his uncle for the first time since he was a teenager, Kylo was stricken by how hollow the Jedi’s face had become. His eyes were devoid of their former brilliance; of hope and promise for the galaxy. There was a heaviness therein that went beyond physical exhaustion, a deep-rooted sadness, and an unfamiliarity which Kylo couldn’t pinpoint._

_Still, he partially understood the Jedi’s despondency, and yet, he wasn’t ready to face_ that _sobering basis either._ No…not ever.

_Kylo blinked, temporarily startled from his considerations. He hadn’t thought on Uncle Luke or his childhood in years, but tiny, fragile fragments of it were surfacing, flashing before his eyes like faceless thieves in the night._

_Life had been tormenting, misleading, and all but broken him then. During what should have been the most carefree days of his life, Kylo had spent the majority of his childhood grappling with Darkness all on his own and whilst watching the disintegration of his parents’ tumultuous marriage happen right before his eyes. It was his fault;_ everything _was his fault._

_Neither of them had understood their only son—or the overwhelming negative energy that pursued him daily, starting from when he was a mere five-year old boy—which didn’t make any of their lives easier to bear. His father had been absent half of the time anyhow and unable to connect to Kylo when he_ was _around, whilst his mother, to her credit, had tried to make better sense of his troubles; but, ultimately, they had both given up and sent him packing._

_Kylo never fathomed he would return to this remote island, where he had once resided (somewhat) comfortably alongside Uncle Luke, though the scenery had been vastly brighter. There had been a grand temple and multiple huts constructed from the local stone. Now, there was only one, and the temple was gone._

Destroyed. By you.

_Had Kylo been gifted with the knowledge of foresight, he would have spared his uncle any of his painstaking efforts to tame the then-boy’s Dark Side sensitivities. After all, as Snoke had so fondly been reminding Kylo since he was a youngling, he was a man ‘destined for Darkness’. His greatness ‘would defy the stars’._

_His uncle, as skilled a Jedi as he was, would prove no match for snuffing out his power. The Darkness had claimed Kylo Ren’s soul long before he arrived at his uncle’s esteemed Jedi Academy._

Long before Mum and Dad sent me away… Long before they ever tried to stop it…

_Kylo shivered again. His smarts told him to return to the hut and warm his bones, but he couldn’t bring himself to be around certain company—well, one far more than the other. Gazing upon Uncle Luke was an agonising reminder of the past, but the girl was a whole other level of headache to his present._

Rey. _He had finally learned her name; or had he always known?_ Rey…

_Her Force powers were remarkably strong, greater even than when Kylo had first tested their endurance on Starkiller base. Snoke would not be pleased to learn of this development, particularly on top of discovering with whom she was engaging with in obtaining such impressive improvements._

_Kylo had noted Rey’s rising Force strength during their second duel on the island and thirdly only earlier that day in the midst of their channelling exercise. The girl’s Light—_ Her Light… _—had been crippling to behold, its rays blinding his eyes and causing them to water and sting. He was never more grateful to be donning a mask that covered the tears during that ridiculous drill, for the last thing he desired was for that infuriating Padawan to glimpse the water stream cascading down his face; tears that he felt utterly betrayed to have produced._

It was the luminosity! _he refuted, feeling his Darkness curl in abhorrence to his reaction to the Light._ It was simply too bright! That’s all!

_Then why had it been so damn earth-shattering? Even now, it felt as though the remnants of that Light were continuing to burn holes in his retinas. His eyes hurt—_ Her Light… _—clouding and obstructing his vision._

It’s the fucking wind, Kylo!

_Claiming defeat (to the blasted wind, that was), Kylo growled lowly, spun on his heel, and stomped back to the stone hut, holding his mask under his arm. The rising chimney smoke and lights flickering within served as necessary beacons to help him find his way. Kylo shoved the negative energy forcefully from his side, feeling the sudden urge to outrun it as fast as his legs might sprint. He picked up his pace and bounded through the front door moments later, gasping as he entered the plain, comfy establishment that had become as much of a sanctuary as a hindrance over the past forty-eight hours._

_Master Luke and Rey were present, sitting on the floor in front of the small wooden table, though evidently not conversing with one another. They appeared to be in the midst of a mediation. Both sets of eyes peered up at him, taken aback, but offered him no words of welcome. Not that he would have expected it._ Especially from _her, he thwarted in passing, gathering his cool and stalking to the spare bedroom._

_“Just where do you think_ you _‘re going?” came that scathing voice of hers that stopped Kylo in his tracks._

_“To bed,” he ground out between clenched teeth, keeping his back to Rey and Master Luke._

_“Now?” Master Luke gestured to his apprentice to let Kylo be, but Rey wasn’t interested in abiding her teacher’s wishes; it was all highly suspicious. “We haven’t even had supper yet.”_

_Rey eyed him up and down with overt mistrust, though he wouldn’t so much as budge or rise to her goading. “I’m. Not. Hungry,” came his stiff reply._

_“Won’t you, at least, warm yourself by the fire?” Master Luke beckoned him, sounding overly hospitable. “You’re shivering, Ben.”_

_Kylo looked down in stunned silence, realising he_ was _, indeed, quivering from head to toe and quite noticeably, too. He made to still the tremors convulsing through his body by centring his being but the shakes proved rather persistent. He really had spent far too much time in the outdoors._

_Whilst warming himself by the fire might have been perfectly suitable, Kylo refused to cave into anymore of Master Luke’s gentle attempts at coaxing him to lay down his guard. He and the girl didn’t trust him—_ Especially the girl! _—so why should he foolishly open himself up to more of their provocations?_ You know why you have to open up _, the sensible part of his mind argued, prompting Kylo to knot his fingers and breathe deeper. “I’m fine,” he spat instead. He ignored Rey’s follow up remark—it was snarky anyway—and charged through the curtain, disappearing from view._

_Rey shot to her feet. “Off to inform your homicidal leader that you found us,” she shouted after his retreating silhouette, “or did you already do that earlier while you were alone? No matter! We’ll be ready!” She threw herself back on the floor and, crossing her arms over her chest, let out a dramatic huff._

_“Rey…”_

_Rey turned to her passive instructor, unable to maintain her cool. “You may be content to let that perpetrator do whatever he wants with us, Master, but_ I _‘m not going to sit around and wait for him to strike!”_

_“Rey—”_

_“He’s up to something! I know it! If you would just listen—”_

_“No,_ you _listen, my young Padawan!_ You _!” Rey quieted under Master Luke’s abrupt, acerbic tone of voice; he had, also, leapt forward on the ground and was pointing his mechanical finger straight at her face. Surprised by his own emotional outburst, Master Luke took a moment to collect himself before addressing Rey with more patience. “I know you don’t trust him, Rey—you have your reasons, no doubt, as do I—but your anger is grossly clouding you from the awareness of just how tremendous a feat it is that Ben’s even here!”_

_Rey’s brow furrowed. As far as she could surmise, Kylo hadn’t done a ruddy thing yet to warrant Master Luke’s praise. What exactly had he accomplished that should be earning him an ounce of either of their trust?_

_As if sensing her internal conflict, Master Luke pressed Rey at a gentler level, “He came when I called him, didn’t kill you at the top of the hill, and dropped the worst of his defences. He’s had ample opportunities to strike us again and again and he hasn’t done so. He’s become stunted; unable to accomplish what, for the Dark Side, is all too clear cut and simple. He’s changing.”_

_“Oh, yes,” Rey scoffed, laughing and providing an aggressive eye roll, “cheers to the man, who tried to kill me once before, for not killing me a second time! Bravo to him!”_

_Master Luke wove his lips together and shot his apprentice a glare rarely bestowed on others. Rey went silent, blushing, and awaited the Jedi’s next words, though not with any grain of eagerness._

_“Your animosity and hatred will be your undoing, Rey. I’m warning you, if you’re not careful, you’re going to wind up just like the person you most despise: that broken man two rooms over.” Rey felt her throat drop into her stomach, not only at the unsettling notion that she could fall prey to the Dark Side, as Master Luke had put to her more than once now, but, also, that he should have the audacity to compare her to Kylo Ren at all. She opened her mouth to retort, but Master Luke kept her from contesting his soul-searching remarks by raising his mechanical hand into the air. “Don’t claim to know the Dark Side as I do, my naïve Padawan, because you_ don’t _know it as I do. You haven’t the wisdom yet to stake the claims of which you speak._

_“You didn’t witness the horrors of what the Darkness did to my nephew; how it robbed Ben of all good sense, of his gentle demeanour, of his capacity to love, of his very soul! It’s brilliant, it is. Brilliant and beautiful and wholesome and_ good _. He had warmth and compassion and a future full of promise before all of this… Oh, yes. You may shake your head all you like, but I’ve seen it! You’ve glimpsed only what the Darkness has claimed over him; the aftermath of all its suffering, treachery, and deceit. It turned my nephew into a cold-blooded murder when, as a boy, he couldn’t bare to watch an animal die in its natural cycle of life!_

_“That could very well be_ you _, Rey. Make no mistake: you’re as susceptible to the Dark Side as any inherently good person in this world, including my fallen nephew.”_

_Finishing his tirade with a long-winded sigh, Master Luke glanced away from Rey, who had all but sunk into the dirt floor beside him. She had reared back as he spoke with such off-colour passion and a certain authority, internalising every word and finding it disconcerting to take in._

_Between their bewildering exchange during their channelling exercise, Master Luke’s definitive statements about Kylo’s desperate yearning for the Light, and his brutally straightforward commentary this evening, Rey’s mind was spinning too fast for her emotions to keep pace. As much as she wanted to believe in everything her wise teacher was telling her, she couldn’t grasp his unbending faith in the man who had murdered Han Solo; or believe that that same man was, in fact, ‘changed’. Kylo Ren may very well want to be a decent fellow going forward, but, to Rey, he would remain a killer, a brutal servant of the First Order, and an unstable, mistrustful character who carried his own warped agenda for the world they shared._

_The subsequent silence became too stifling for Rey, so she quietly excused herself and bolted for her bedroom, where she collapsed onto her mattress, absentmindedly toed off her boots, and tucked her knees to her chest. She was no longer hungry or desired anyone’s company but her own, and, thus, she rocked back and forth with the time, thinking, pondering, and analysing everything she knew from her own observations of the detrimental puzzle that was Kylo Ren to the umpteenth degree; but she wound up no closer to any clarification than at the start of her exercise._

_After a half hour or so of intense thinking, Rey groaned in defeat and plopped down sidelong on her mattress. Her mind was overworked, and it vexed her deeply that Kylo Ren was occupying so much of that space. She shut her eyes and tried to focus on her meditation, concentrating on each slow, even breath her lungs absorbed. It was going to be another rough night of sleep, though, she determined soon thereafter._

_Despite spending months on a secluded island, where the waves regularly lapped at the shoreline and instilled a steady, reliable rhythm, Rey hadn’t mastered the art of rest—at least, not on any sort of consistent, beneficial basis. Too many nights the restless scavenger in her still tossed and turned about, just as she had when she was a little girl, unable to shut down her mind and fall into a deep slumber. Sleep was an allusion; it had been for as long as she could remember._

_Thinking on_ that _misfortune only served to bring Rey’s mind back to that malignant interrogation with Kylo Ren when he had taken her hostage. Before Rey could stop him from consuming more of her time, Kylo’s unpleasant words had slithered through the weakened cracks in her subconscious, repeating to her over and over again as if she were still his prisoner._

> 
>         _"At night, desperate to sleep..."_
>       
>     
>     
>         _"You'd imagine an ocean..."_
>       
>     
>     
>         _"So lonely... So afraid to leave..."_
>       

_Rey squeezed her eyes shut in the hopes of blocking out Kylo’s even register and resounding words. She had exhausted the day on him already; she wasn’t about to allow him to devour her nights as well._

_‘Need some help?’_

_Rey’s eyes flew open. That confident, unnerving voice was no longer the result of a memory but very much present and coming from feet away, barred only by a thin wall. Her body coiled in on itself, cushioning against her adversary lying in the next room. She answered him, with a defying, ‘No.’_

_‘For both our sakes, you should reconsider my offer.’_

_‘I want nothing from you!’_

_He sighed, annoyed. ‘The feeling’s mutual. It’s simple meditation, though, and we’d both benefit from it if you’d just let me in.’_

_Rey snorted, insulted. ‘Fat chance! What do you take me for?’_

_‘Someone who’s so damn headstrong that she’ll keep herself_ and _the man she despises awake for the rest of the night just to spite herself.’_

_Rey faltered for a moment. ‘Yeah? And with good reason!’_

_‘You’ve got me there.’ A short pause later, ‘But unless you’d prefer to have me stuck in your head and nagging you for the next several hours…’_

_Pondering_ that _possibility for only a matter of seconds was more than enough for Rey. She clamped her tongue with her teeth to keep from spewing a few choice words and, instead, half succumbed through a groan, propelling herself upright into a seated position. She glared at the curtain to her left, waiting._

_Seconds later Kylo drifted into her personal space, his enormous frame engulfing hers in shadow. His long, angular face abhorred even the opposite of daylight: the moon and stars. That was both chilling and arresting to her, but Rey pointedly said nothing. She sensed the negative energy that accompanied him, always at his side, though it had gone still for tonight._

This is a mistake _, her conscience was screaming as he approached her bedside, issuing cautious, slow steps on the stone floor._

_Kylo halted in front of Rey, staring down at her as if he expected her to lash out, perhaps, kick him in the shins or summon her lightsaber that he knew was conveniently stowed beneath her pillow. Determining at a glance that he was safe (for now), Kylo slowly lowered himself to the floor, where he awkwardly crossed one gigantic leg over the other and met Rey’s wary scrutiny._

_At such a close proximity, she could now better discern those onyx eyes and ambiguous, too ashen facial features. Hearing him speak in his normal voice box was already oddly alluring and about to become more so once he spoke directly to her. He shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat first, showcasing the same uneasiness as she felt. “I won’t enter your mind as… As I did before. This exercise is meant to be gradual and hypnotic; it’s helped me fall asleep when I’ve needed an extra push.”_

_Somehow, Rey deduced that Kylo didn’t manage much sleep either, if the war-weary bags beneath his eyes were any sort of notable assumption. With hesitance, Kylo reached for Rey but she jolted backward at once, spooked. He paused, his arm halting in mid-air._

_“Why are you helping me?” she demanded to know through a pair of slanted, glimmering eyes._

_His arm lowered a fraction. “Because I have no interest in staying awake all night thanks to you.”_

_“What else?” she prodded, to which he dismissed her in an impatient grunt._

_“There’s nothing else.”_

_“You’re a liar.”_

_“And you’re unreasonable and difficult—”_

_“‘_ Difficult _‘?” she interrupted, nettled by the insult._

_“—when it’s completely unnecessary.”_

_Rey bore her teeth. “Coming from_ you _, that’s rich and I’ll take it as a compliment.”_

_To her displeasure, Kylo shrugged and indicated little disenchantment. “Suit yourself.” Rey began grinding her teeth and sensing that they weren’t about to reach any sort of peace offering, Kylo stressed, speaking faster, “Now, do you need me to call my uncle into your room to oversee what I’m about to do; or will you cut us both a break and let me get on with it?”_

_“If_ you _‘re involved then yes, I’d like Master Luke here.”_

_Kylo’s reaction was discouraging, for he smirked in a suggestive, enticing manner that made her spine tingle. “No, you don’t.”_

_Rey eased forward and squared her shoulders. “Don’t I?”_

_“You’re afraid, then?”_

_“Of you? Hardly.”_

_“Then prove it.”_

_Rey’s face slumped. “That’s just what you’d like me to do, isn’t it?”_

_Kylo gave her a classic eye roll, shoving her prickled energy towards ire. An unhelpful move._

_Aware of the growing hostility in play, for the Darkness on Kylo’s end was stirring, especially when it saw the reaction it was getting from its opponent, Rey reeled in her emotions and rubbed her hands nervously on her thighs. “Fine,” she acquiesced, though she still reclined backward when he extended his reach._

_Kylo’s hand lingered therein, allowing Rey’s body language to guide his next moves. Then, when he was certain she wasn’t about to thrash him, his hand stretched farther still, lukewarm, bare fingertips making contact with Rey’s smooth forehead._

_She felt paralysed by fear…and if she were being honest, a dash of excitement. She understood that that touch was his—the evil First Order Commander whose hands were metaphorically soaked with the blood of the lives he had so gruesomely taken, including his own father’s—and yet, the feel of his skin on hers was not at all what Rey anticipated. Rather, his digits were disarmingly gentle, soft, the act itself that came in stroking small circles across her brow sedating and an indescribable comfort._

_Streaks of blue and green emerged before Rey’s sight, washing over her like a slow-acting current, starting at the top of her head and trickling down through her toes like water seeping through cracks, molding and filling them to capacity. She sunk into her mattress, eyelids falling shut. This Light that danced around her was minuscule, strange, but magnetic, its tranquil nature tugging her towards slumber, a deep sleep she hadn’t managed in many, many years._

_The last thing Rey recalled was this unfamiliar Light dousing her shoulder-length deep in a pool of solitude, and then everything faded to black._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Rey raised a dubious eyebrow and searched her husband’s shattered demeanour. “And how precisely do you plan to pull that off, Ben?”

“It’s a thought that only recently came to me,” he bit back, shooing away her visible concerns in a swift, aggravated huff.

“But if we take your ship, you’ll surely be blamed for our escape—”

“Not if I play my cards right.”

Rey reared back, each worry line she had earned through the years mounting. “Ben…” she cautioned, obviously not on board with his idea.

“The particulars will be dealt with. Don’t fret, would you? We need to see to getting you and the kids there as discreetly as possible.”

Rey softly made to assure him, “We’ll manage.”

Ben shuddered. “It’s not going to be easy…”

Rey’s glowing, humoured smile, brief as it was, consoled some of his overwrought nerves. She could always be counted upon to lessen his tension. Her hand roped tighter around his arm, pulling Ben nearer. “When have things _ever_ been a breeze for us?”

“Point taken,” he deadpanned.

Rey noted the faint amusement in that reply and her eyes cushioned. A serious frown would soon replace her endearing smile, however. “You’re not well,” she whispered, perceiving the twinge of unnerve he concealed beneath the mask.

His response was edgy. “I told you, Rey, _I’m fine_.”

“When was the last time you slept?” she sought from him, speaking with alarming calmness given the circumstances.

There was a short pause. “Recently.”

Rey’s kind eyes turned downhearted. “You’re lying to me.”

“When did _you_ last sleep?” he challenged, his line of questioning far more clipped than hers.

Rey kept her cool, knowing it was essential for both their sakes’. “I slept off and on the past twenty-four hours. Not much else to do in here when you’re waiting around to be rescued.” She added, placing an understanding hand upon his wide chest, “I don’t mean it like _that_ , all right? I _know_ you’re doing all you can, Ben. We all do.”

Ben nodded and released a cumbersome sigh that was fraught with unresolved tension. He craned his neck closer to her, on the edge of muttering something else important, when something suddenly stopped him short of a reply. He noticed Rey turning her sights towards the vacant wall to her right and his left, though there was nothing that should have drawn her gaze there. Yet, Ben followed the same visual trail as her, sensing, too, the danger now barrelling through his veins.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, goosebumps rising along Rey’s flesh. Both faced one another, the alarm in their stiff postures apparent. Rey’s angst-ridden expression mirrored Ben’s, though his was conveniently covered.

In an instant, he broke away from her and headed for the locked door, declaring as he rushed off, “I’ll see what’s going on.” He wanted to alleviate her stress and panic but couldn’t keep the quiver out of his own register, even with the damnable contraption he wore in place.

Rey’s shaken, wide-eyed look was stuck in Ben’s mind as he made for the children’s prison chambers next to hers. _Please_ , he prayed to himself, _let my instincts be wrong._


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 10**

_“Hope is a good breakfast, but it is a bad supper.”_  
—Francis Bacon

* * *

_Ben turned over the rustic, crushed cube cradled between his tiny fingers, wondrous, chocolate-coloured irises hungrily examining its fractured hardwires and gaping holes. The irregularities shouldn’t have been there but to the elated boy, its imperfections mattered not. An adult would have discarded it as a piece of metal garbage unearthed from the local trash compactor; to Ben Solo, it was a unique and utterly essential device to add to his growing collection of rare gadgets that spanned the farthest corners of the galaxy._

_“It belonged to a Jedi once,” his mother informed him fondly, placing it in her son’s inquisitive hands and smiling at his bouncy delight. “Be mindful with it, Ben, all right? Holocrons are extremely rare and we wouldn’t want it to go missing.”_

_“Yes, Mummy!'” He crinkled his nose the longer he inspected it which was only a matter of moments. “Erm… What does it do again?”_

_“A Jedi uses this to guard his secrets and, also, to document teachings of the Force.”_

_Ben’s eyes glimmered up at Leia, awakening at that powerful last word. “Really?” he murmured in awe, his mouth dropping open in excitement._

_Leia shared in her son’s enthusiasm. “Yes! Your uncle has one, of course, and we knew you’d want one, too, so your father acquired this old model. It no longer works, I’m afraid, but we thought you’d still like to have it as an early birthday present?”_

_Ben’s eyes livened like two illuminated beams. “Can I, Mummy?”_

_“Of course, sweetheart!” Leia pulled Ben into a compact hug, pressing him warmly to her bosom._

_When Ben pulled away from their embrace, he was no longer beaming up at her but frowning, looking suddenly forlorn. “When’s Daddy coming home?” he asked in a pained, tight whisper._

_Ben didn’t miss the slip of his mother’s smile before it forcefully returned to her pretty face. “Soon, Ben. Very soon.”_

_Ben lowered his gaze and pushed out his bottom lip. “You said that last week…and the week before that…”_

_“Ben,” Leia interrupted him, gently nudging the sullen boy towards the duracrete staircase located off of the kitchen, “why don’t you run along and play ’till the droid finishes with supper? It won’t be long.”_

_“Fine…” Ben slumped his shoulders, knowing what his mother was after, and yielded to her request for solitude without complaint. He skipped off with his precious gift in hand, climbing the stairs two at a time to his cosy, darkened room on the second level._

_Ben relished his personal space, even as a youngster, preferring his own company to that of most others. Not that he had been afforded that many opportunities to make friends. His parents kept him rather isolated; or so it often felt. He had grown accustomed to playing alone and now thought not much of his quietude. With his parents often too busy with their day to day ‘adult’ affairs to invest in random child play, so the only other individual Ben really engaged with was Chewie…when the Wookie was around to entertain him._

_Ben threw himself down on the fluffy shag carpet in the middle of his room, spreading himself out amongst a few of his favourite trinkets; but he ignored the others that were scattered about the floor in favour of the defunct Holocron in his grasp, sifting over its corroded crystallised design with glee._ _He had been begging for one for what felt like an eternity, but his father hadn’t seemed all that confident in obtaining one whenever his son asked. Ben believed in him, though, especially with the added encouragements that came from Chewie. He couldn’t believe the two had finally snagged one, and he hoped they would be along soon so that he could thank them properly for his one-of-a-kind gift._

_Maybe the Wookie could help him to polish and fix it up whenever he and his father returned from their latest ‘smuggling’ adventure, whatever_ that _was. They never elaborated on their dealings to Ben, but they always returned with such brilliant finds, most of which had the boy green with envy. He wished he could join them on one of their trips, but his mother adamantly refused whenever Ben begged to go along. She was never impressed with whatever his father and Chewie brought home with them either, though Ben didn’t understand why._

_His mother was another puzzle Ben admired but couldn’t understand, beautiful and kind-hearted but openly brazen in her stern points of view. He knew she was descended from royalty, except that she didn’t permit anyone to call her ‘princess’, including him. That didn’t make sense to Ben. She regularly led missions for the Resistance against the growing First Order that threatened the galaxy, and that meant that Ben spent a great deal of his free time aboard various freighters. He wished he could fly with his father and Chewie on occasion, but his mother rarely allowed it._

_As much as Ben longed to focus on his new present, his heart was no longer invested. His shaggy hair draped forward into his eyes, half masking the sudden pang of despair. He missed his father and he missed his only friend, the Wookie. It had been ages since he had last seen them, and he pined for helping them fix broken parts of the Falcon or being allowed to tinker with their latest purchases from their exotic travels._

_With a frown that echoed well beyond his years, Ben placed the Holocron on the floor with a long sigh. The atmosphere was silent save for the occasional humming of the droid and his mother’s mumbling downstairs, and Ben found his mind easily wandering as he listened to their hazy, familiar voices._

_Then another noise erupted, this one far louder, and yet, not at all foreign. The clamorous rumbling of a ship descending towards the ground, as well as the obnoxiously bright lights that filtered into Ben’s bedroom between the blinds on his windows, made him shield his eyes; but then they lit up with suspense._

_In a flurry, Ben scurried to one of the windows, hoping to confirm with his own eyes what might very well be the welcoming visit from two people he had been so yearning for. The boy’s wishes were, indeed, granted: his father, Han Solo, wearing his signature scruffy beard, greying hair and worn, leather jacket, came parading down the plank of the Falcon, confirming Ben’s greatest hopes. The engine was still running and Han yelled instructions to Chewie, still seated at the cockpit, over his shoulder to shut the ship down. He stopped short of stepping off the Falcon entirely, however, for Leia suddenly barrelled into view._

_That’s when Ben’s wishes were milled like escaping sand through his fingers._ _Leia stormed over to her husband and descended on him in what Ben had come to regard as her fiery tirade, berating Han for what the boy knew not. Her arms flailed in the air as she screamed and Han shouted right back at her, evidently countering whatever she was accusing him of. Tears were soon trickling down her flushed cheeks but their shouting match carried on, both adults oblivious to their innocent son watching from the second-story window._

_Dismayed but not surprised, Ben sunk against the window pane and stared on. It was a well-recognised, ugly display that the five-year old had witnessed too many times to count. He didn’t comprehend its magnitude, but he understood that its visual broke his heart. He was grateful the Falcon’s engine was so deafening, for he really didn’t care to overhear whatever hurtful words were being sparred back and forth between husband and wife._

_Ben’s lower lip quivered the longer he observed their passionate quarrel outside the house. He prayed they would soon cease. Why did they have to fight all the time? Were all mummies and daddies like this, greeting one another with spiteful words and leaving each other on tearful, angry farewells?_

Make it stop _, he pleaded, closing his eyes to shield his sight from their awful, contorted faces._ Make them stop!

_A flicker of crimson light—blood red and overpowering—flashed across Ben’s eyes, jerking the boy from his gloomy prayers. He wasn’t sure what compelled him to turn around but he acted on instinct, spinning around so fast that he staggered sideways and almost lost his balance. His eyes were wide as he sought the red, flickering lights he had merely glimpsed behind closed eyelids. It was then that he realised that they appeared to be coming from the Holocron lying stagnant on the floor in the middle of his bedroom._

_Timid and confused, Ben inched closer to the flashing, broken cube. Hadn’t his mother told him that it no longer worked? It certainly carried all the markings of a faulty. There should be no reason that the crystallised design should blink red._

_Ben wrinkled his nose._ Shouldn’t it be blue? That’s what Uncle Luke’s does when it lights up…

_A shiver tore down Ben’s spine, for the temperature had dropped by ten to fifteen degrees. How was_ that _possible? Why was his bedroom suddenly as cold as a snowy plane? He roped his tiny arms around himself, shuddering and trying to keep his teeth from clattering._

_The strange new energy, unsettling and ambiguous in nature, extended its reach, beckoning the boy to it like the tantalising curl of a finger. Ben angled his head and braved another step closer to the Holocron which still blinked madly upon the ground._

_Just as he considered bending forward to touch it, an airy hiss stopped him midway. ‘Ben…’_

_Ben froze. It was a voice he didn’t know—not by name, anyhow—but male, low and ancient, with a languid drawl that was older than any wise man he had ever encountered; as aged as the one thousand-year old trees that rustled their leaves beyond his window._

_Had he imagined it? What was this peculiar, seductive energy that so deeply spoke to him? It had awakened something within him, something he couldn’t pinpoint or describe in detail. Was this energy and that voice one and the same?_

_Then he heard the voice again and his fears were somehow, though unexplained, confirmed by its knowing address. ‘Ben…’_

_Ben’s small muscles tensed. He wanted to run; he wanted to scream; he wanted to cry for his parents outside, though they wouldn’t have heard him even if he had tried, what with the Falcon’s engine resounding and shaking the ground beneath his feet._

_Stranded, Ben waited, petrified with fear. He held his breath, unable to cry out…or to run._

_‘My poor, little prince,’ the voice sympathised, using a luring air of affection Ben had never heard before, ‘I can make it stop. I can make it all better for you; better than you ever could have dreamt…’_

_“You – You can?” the boy barely managed to ask, for his mouth had gone dry. He gaped at the Holocron, transfixed by its pull._

_‘Oh, yes. If you trust in_ me _, Ben, we can do extraordinary things…’_

_Ben stared at the Holocron from whence the voice seemed to have spoken, half memorised, half terror-stricken. “Who – Who are you?” he chanced demanding and the energy at once swelled, invisible fingers ghosting through his tousled hair and along his large, rounded ears. He shied away from its unnaturally cold touch, though the gesture had piqued his interest._

_‘Patience, my little prince,’ it insisted to him, enticing the boy closer with every soft-spoken word. ‘All in good time._

‘ _Now, tell me, what would you like to play?’_

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Ben’s gloved hand grazed over his son’s secured durasteel door, pausing to assess for anything sinister lurking within and keeping Han company. Relief poured over his too-taut shoulders a moment later at the confirmation that Han’s cell was empty of anything save for the boy himself.

In haste, Ben moved on to the next door. His mental shields were raised before he had so much as swept in front of his daughters’ holding locations, however. Amidala’s was nearest to him, and the grim, negative energy he sensed churning inside made him sick with dread. With torn reluctance, he pressed a hand to her door to pass on the same telepathic message he had conveyed to Han a moment ago: _‘It’s Dad. Hang on. I’ll be there soon.’_

To his conflicted conscience—and anxiously pounding heart—he felt he possessed little choice in rushing to Astrid’s aid first. _She’s the youngest_ , he told himself and, as such, she was entirely bereft of any experience in confronting the foreign energy that apparently was penetrating her cell. _Hurry. Move fast. Don’t let Snoke detect a damned thing._

Ben stalked to Astrid’s door and unlocked it by way of a security code which he knew would alert personnel of his location. He was rather surprised no one had turned up already. Wasting no time, he dashed inside.

The eerie silence that greeted his ears upon entering disintegrated as soon as the door slammed behind him. Astrid was in the left-hand corner of the room, curled up in a foetal position on a bench. To his horror, she was clawing at her precious little face, already splotched and stained with tears, and internally begging—screaming—to be left alone; but it wasn’t Ben she was beseeching to let her be. It was something else, invisible and unseen with the naked eye.

With what little time had been afforded him, Ben had tried to ready himself for this probability, but now that he was looking upon Astrid in pain, any mental preparations proved utterly futile. There was no way for one to compose themselves for witnessing their guileless child being so senselessly and viciously assaulted by a dangerous, unseeable entity.

A protective, enraged energy—grey but strong and demanding—tore through the atmosphere, spreading to every corner of the room except where Astrid lay. The Darkness spun about in time, detecting Ben’s wild attack, and surrounded Astrid as though she was its sought-after prize, growling possessively over the girl whilst she trembled and whimpered in fear. She was hardly aware of her father’s presence, too consumed by the unspeakable pain ravaging through her mind and small body to make sense of anything else at play.

Ben lashed out, throwing his arm into the air as he imparted his Force-sensitive energy to work on his behalf. He tried to reel back the fury, wanting to purposely keep his response neutral but aggressive. His aim was simply to get the Darkness to back off long enough that he might overrun Astrid.

Predictably, it didn’t retreat at his advance but fought back, snarling and pawing at Ben’s energy to either withdrawal or bow in compliance. _‘You’re no match for me!’_ it hissed with malicious mirth, taunting Ben’s buffer-seeking aim.

Ben knew better than to respond. The Darkness would recognise his voice, if not his energy were he to truly unleash his rage. If there was to be minimal damage in this off-the-cuff scheme, he would need to act fast…and defy detection.

His energy coiled and snarled in return, flashes of blazing pink and orange seeping through the grey before hastily receding at Ben’s command. He was hoping to draw the Darkness’ curiosity away from Astrid, but all it did was provoke the negative energy’s ire, forcing a less desired, impromptu attack to quickly build and take shape in Ben’s mind.

Knowing he had no more time to spare, Ben thrust forward with all his might, summoning as much power as he could wield, and clawed at the Darkness itself. It gave a ferocious howl and struck him with a power and strength that left him breathless and shaken. His boots skidded backward against the floor, as if by some untraceable thread, but Ben made to strike at it however he might.

Suddenly, the Darkness yanked at Ben’s grip, physically jerking him forward, and he lost the feeble grip he had briefly held. Instantly, he sought what was far most important: Astrid. He dove into her mind, ramming the Darkness backward with another Force-sensitive jab, and then another and another. It wilfully retreated to avoid Ben’s clutches until it had nowhere to go but outside of her body.

Ben made his last ditch effort to rid Astrid of the Darkness’ presence. His upper lip curled backward, revealing white teeth, and the muscles in his jaw visibly clenched like fists. His gloved fingers twisted, opening and closing, as his energy shoved and ripped at whatever of the Darkness he could injure. It dodged his efforts but reacted with shock at his level of advancement. It didn’t wrestle back for dominance but, instead, made for its only escape, vanishing out of the room without leaving a trace of its presence, save for Astrid’s afflicted, trembling state.

At last, Ben lowered his defenses, his towering figure shaking like a leaf where he stood, on edge and at odds. After ensuring that the Darkness was, in fact, gone, he sprinted to Astrid’s side, dropped to the floor, and gathered her tiny body into his enormous arms, swaddling her against his chest. He was unaware of his own quivering arms that had trouble keeping their clutch steady.

Astrid was unresponsive. Noting her perspiration, Ben hastily unravelled a bit of his tattered scarf from around his neck and pressed the soft material to her forehead. “ _Astrid_!” he breathed, his voice jittery from behind the vocal contraption of his mask. “Astrid, can you hear me? It’s Daddy. _Astrid, please_! C’mon, it’s all right. You’re all right now. Come back.”

When she didn’t respond to his voice or to his touch, Ben cupped her right cheek and began to meditate, rocking them back and forth in unison. He needed to enter her mind to assess the damage and, also, to (hopefully) bring her round.

Unsurprisingly, due to her age, he was able to penetrate her mind with unremarkable ease. On the surface there appeared to be nothing but vapour and shadow. His heart pumped with furious determination as he desperately scoured the dense, dour landscape of her mind, unable to locate remnants of her within reach.

“Astrid,” he pleaded over and over again to what felt like empty air, searching for some sign of life behind her closed eyelids. “Astrid, it’s Daddy. It’s all right now. _Please_ … Come back to me…”

It felt like an eternity that Ben weeded through Astrid’s assaulted mind, delicately peeling back layer upon layer of what he could only pray were her short-fused defence mechanisms. Had she retreated so far into herself as to not be able to find her way back? He wanted to believe his littlest was that clever, but upon swift inspection, his heavy heart had to presume otherwise.

She wouldn’t know her way back; she wouldn’t know _what_ to do under these circumstances. She was simply too young to understand how to shield her mind from Darkness, too small and too naïve to fight off someone of Snoke’s unbeatable calibre. She hadn’t even begun to show signs of possessing Force sensitivities. Yet, somehow, Snoke had known.

How had that bastard found out before Ben had? He clenched his hands as he stalked onward through mist and gripping darkness. How had that horrid, evil louse uncovered his daughter’s beautiful gifts well before her own father or mother had sensed them?

_Simple, really. You’re no match for him,_ his conscience inconveniently chose to point out then and there. _Your own mother and father didn’t sense your gifts before Snoke had already lured you to his side. Why should he not sense your own children’s Force sensitives before you or Rey figured them out? He’s destined to outwit you every damn time._

That nauseating, helpless notion filled Ben with an even greater urge to find his daughter. If her mind really had withered to ash, he would pursue whatever was left to every last hidden corner it might seek shelter. He loathed knowing how profoundly he had failed her against Snoke and if taking the time to find Astrid again meant being discovered by the enemy cradling his daughter in his arms in the corner of her cell… _then so be it_.

“ _Astrid, please_ … Please, come back to me,” Ben pleaded, feeling his voice falter the deeper he plunged and received no response. “I promise I’ll protect you. I won’t let him touch you ever again. Never, ever. Please… _my little star_ … Please…come back.”

Just as he was beginning to run out of steam, he heard the faintest echo trickle forth from somewhere beyond his sight. It was so feeble he almost missed it.

“Daddy?”

Ben’s heart catapulted into his throat. He hastened his pace backwards at once. “Yes, Astrid! Yes, it’s me! Come! _Please_!”

“Daddy?” Astrid repeated, seeking, roaming, her voice gaining strength.

“Yes, my little star! Yes! Follow my voice! Come back to me!”

“Where are you?”

“I’m here, little star. _I’m here_. Come.”

Ben eased out of Astrid’s mind as generously as he had entered, unmindful of holding his breath as he stared down at the girl’s immobile form. Her doll-like face was ashen and unmoving, though her trembling had dulled and her eyelids had begun to flutter.

“ _Astrid_ ,” Ben called to her with heightened urgency; he patted her cheek and his hold around her tightened, “it’s all right. Wake up, Astrid. _Wake up now_.”

Finally, Astrid’s eyelids rolled back, revealing disoriented but familiar, big hazel irises. Ben let forth several shuddering breaths as he watched her come to. “Astrid!” he kept repeating her name, hoping she would recognise him before long. “Astrid, can you hear me? It’s me, little star. _I’m here_.”

Astrid’s eyes slowly honed in on the fractured metal mask in front of her, morphing from confusion to terror in a flash; but then, just as surely, she recognised the covert ensemble Ben was wearing, as well as his erratic breathing, and she strained to speak his name, “Da – Daddy?”

Her voice was weak and hoarse but her own, and the ball of tension throughout Ben’s body convulsed with relief. “Hi, little star.” To keep from breaking down, he hurriedly pressed her to his chest. His mask was the only blasted barrier preventing him from kissing every inch of her face as he would have liked, and he despised having to keep it in place, but he resolved to, at least, hug his daughter as fiercely as he might without hurting her. “It’s over, Astrid,” he managed to convey once he felt in better control of his emotions. “It’s over now, I promise. I’m so sorry…”

“Da – Daddy, wh – what was th – that?”

“Somebody very bad, little star.” He coiled his arms tighter still around her petite frame, letting her whimper into his chest. “Somebody who had no right to be anywhere near you.”

Small fingers clutched and tugged at Ben’s clothes. “He – He spoke to me, Daddy,” Astrid whined. “He – He was asking me things… He – He wanted to – to know…”

“Hush, little star.” He pressed his mask to one side of her face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Do – Don’t let him—”

“I’ll _never_ let that heathen anywhere near you again, all right?” he possessively declared, holding her to him with all his might. “You have my word.”

Astrid’s soft cries and sniffles slowly subsided. Eventually, Ben was able to pull himself away from her in order to peer down into her face, disheartened by what he saw. She had ceased crying but was visibly—and understandably—shaken and still in great distress. He wiped away a few tears cascading down her rose-tinted cheeks. Her lower lip gave way at his consoling touch.

Reading the unspoken terror written in her eyes, Ben leaned closer to say something else when he felt the will of the Force drawing near and not the positive sort. He flinched and shot to his feet just as the durasteel door flung wide, revealing two Stormtroopers and an officer. They marched inside, angling their heads at finding their lead commander in the room.

“Sir,” the young male officer spoke up, eying Ben over with increasing suspicion, “we were told of a disturbance down here in cellblocks seventeen and nineteen.”

“As you can see, I’m in the midst of an interrogation!” Ben hissed back, hoping to keep them from dawdling.

The officer took a brief moment to scan Astrid on the floor, who was shaking again and trying to hide her face behind Ben’s legs. Ben, sensing his daughter wanting to be near him, every ounce of her seeking safety and security, wordlessly warned her not to do so by pushing her back a little by way of his energy. Luckily, a small nudge transmitted the message and she obeyed, though not without bemoaning the fact through achingly quiet whimpers.

“I wasn’t aware of such orders from General Hux,” said the officer, sounding dubious.

“Because they did not come from him,” Ben didn’t hesitate to correct the fool. He whirled around, tugged Astrid effortlessly to her feet and hated how she yelped at his forced aggression, and took decisive steps towards the officer, who swerved backward to avoid being trampled on. The accompanying Stormtroopers did likewise. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get on with this before the Supreme Leader arrives.”

The officer blinked, confounded. “What could the girl possibly have to offer?”

Although he couldn’t glimpse Ben’s glare, he could certainly sense it by his persona’s exceedingly acerbic tone. “Information,” he clipped.

The officer cocked his head sideways, evidently not following. “‘Information’?” he repeated. “About what?”

“About the _mother_ , you idiot.”

_That_ finally shut the officer up. He gave a nervous twitch and nodded accordingly, though, when Ben brushed past him with Astrid in tow, intending to remove her from her cell, he scampered after the lead commander, the Stormtroopers following closely at his heel. “Sir,” he called after Ben, struggling to keep pace, “where are you taking her?”

“To her mother’s cell.”

“ _Whatever for_?”

Ben rounded on the officer so fast that the lad tripped into one of the Stormtroopers, who luckily prevented the inexperienced dunce from landing arse over elbow by grabbing his arm. Ben kept his temperament at bay but only for his daughter’s sake, who was watching these befuddling events unfold without total comprehension, as he growled through a tight grimace, “To see what her mother will give up once she sees what I’ve done to this one.” He paused, allowing the officer to regather his wits. “ _Anything else_?” he prodded with the utmost disdain.

The officer shrunk into himself. “N – No, sir.”

“Then you may report back to General Hux, if you feel so inclined.”

The officer scampered off without delay, the Stormtroopers smartly trailing after him. Ben wasted no time opening Rey’s cell and dragging Astrid inside with him. He instantly let her go, allowing the distraught youngster to run to her mother with frantic, outstretched arms.

“ _Mommy_!” she cried, bursting into tears all over again.

Rey, who was seated cross-legged on the floor, bolted onto her knees to receive Astrid immediately into her fold. She stared at Ben, bewildered and concerned, and made to stand up with Astrid, though she was further dismayed when Ben wouldn’t budge but stayed rooted rigidly in front of the door.

“I’ve tried to reach Ami several times but she won’t answer me. What’s going on, Ben?” she demanded to know, feeling her nerves rise when Ben remained mute. “Ben, _what is it_?” she pressed, her heart rate accelerating with each passing bit of silence.

“He knows,” came his gradual response, the steadiness of his voice broken as he explained quietly, “Astrid, she… She’s Force-sensitive…and _he knows_ …”

Rey placed a protective hand across the back of Astrid’s head as the girl continued to softly weep into her shoulder. Rey’s brown eyes, large and stricken, peered up into Ben’s mask, and what little colour she possessed drained from her cheeks. “You’re certain?” she questioned through a quivering breath.

Ben slowly confirmed the dreadful news with a defeated-sounding, “Yes.”

Rey’s panic intensified. She pressed her daughter to her bosom, wishing to console and safeguard her from harm. “Ami…” she advised, panicking. “Check on Ami! And Han!”

As Ben turned to leave, his moves robotic and stoic, he was abruptly caught by Rey’s hand which seized him by the wrist. “Ben,” she started, but the words fizzled on her tongue. She sensed the morose thoughts her husband was constructing and they were copious enough to crush her, if she wasn’t careful.

“We can’t protect them,” he concluded heavy-handedly, his words barely above a whisper.

Without hesitation, Rey lashed out. “ _Don’t say that_!” She reached her hand around to cover one of Astrid’s ears, her expression forming a determined glare. “We _can_ and we _will_!”

“I’m sorry, Rey…” One of his hands extended to delicately coast along Astrid’s back; Rey was brought up short by his dejected, too soft-spoken words. “I’m so sorry…”

“Ben, don’t—”

“I’ll check on the others. Then I’ll find you a map, retrieve your lightsabers, and we’ll get you the hell out of here.”

There was no cushioning to his words. Hopelessness and anguish filled the cell space…and the small gap between devastated husband and wife.

Rey tried calling Ben back again but by then, the cell door had reopened and he had stepped through to the other side. He soon vanished, the door slamming behind him, and all turned quiet once more, except for Astrid’s muffled, frightened cries.

Rey bundled her youngest close and bound her lips together to keep her emotions in check. Now was not the time for a mental breakdown, she cautioned herself. She and Ben needed to remain calm and focused on their escape if they were going to get their children out of this mess alive. She knew a day of reckoning was coming; a day when she would have to finally face the wretched fiend who had made it his life’s mission to track her down and make her suffer for her Light; for her goodness. That day now felt terribly closer at hand than ever before.

Still, no matter how sickened she felt at learning of Snoke’s penetration into her daughter’s mind—and how he might have proceeded to terrorise her—and how badly the drive remained to keep running, Rey made her best efforts to hold it together. She soothed Astrid, speaking sweet nothings to her and rocking them back and forth.

Yet, despite her best efforts, tears threatened Rey’s eyes. If it was possible to be gutted and enraged at the same time then Rey was wrestling with both. _You’ll pay for this, you monster!_ she promised her adversary, stifling the sobs manifesting at the back of her throat. _I’ll make you regret the day you ever chose to go after my family!_

* * *

_Rey watched the animated silhouettes of Kylo Ren and Master Luke on the horizon, gnawing at her inner cheek without awareness. It would be notable to her later—and regrettably sore—but it didn’t matter at present. She was tempted to walk over and eavesdrop on their conversation, though it appeared to be more of an argument than a discussion in the works; but she wanted to trust in Master Luke for a change and, also, in this bizarre, mystifying faith he held for his nephew._

_That didn’t mean the curiosity wasn’t eating her alive, especially with Kylo waving his arms in the air and Master Luke repeatedly shaking his head. She shoved her hands beneath her buttocks, as if that conscientious act might keep her flighty energy rooted to the ground._

_After an astounding night of rest, in which Rey could hardly remember how Kylo had hypnotised her into falling asleep, she was feeling all sorts of antsy and unsettled. For someone who barely slept a couple hours a night at a time, Rey should have felt refreshed and, under normal circumstances, she_ would _have; but it was Kylo Ren whom she had allowed to put her under some sort of sleep meditation, and not being able to remember much of what happened was vexing her to no comfortable end._

What the hell was I thinking? _she berated herself once she awoke that morning._ Do you realise what he could have done to you? How sleep deprived and dunce have you become, Rey?

…But he didn’t _, the rational part of her mind countered. He didn’t do anything, in fact._ Except…help me.

_Rey ground her teeth together and leapt up from the ground, brushing a bit of soil off of her pants. To hell with it, she would_ have _to intrude on them. She needed to speak to Kylo._

_As Rey stalked closer to where Kylo and Master Luke were standing, her ears picked up on bits and fragments of their heated conversation. As she suspected, it was most definitely a dispute._

_“Hold your tongue, Ben!” Master Luke was warning Kylo which, instantly, stunned Rey. She had never heard Master Luke speak with such underlying antagonism before._

_“What are you doing? What is your aim?”_

_“My aim is to teach! To prepare her for when the time comes—”_

_“Whilst lying to her behind her back?” Kylo challenged, shooting what Rey could only assume were daggers from behind that awful mask. “You remember how you deceived me? It didn’t end well for you and your lot, did it?”_

_Master Luke’s eyes withdrew, seemingly wounded by Kylo’s words. “That ‘lot’ was yours, too, Ben… Do not seek to blame me for your past transgressions…”_

_“Consider it a fair warning, old man. You deceived me and it didn’t work in your favour. What makes you so certain it will be any different with her?”_

_“Because she’s not like you, Ben.”_

_“What’s_ that _supposed to mean?”_ _he hissed._

_“Never mind,” Master Luke dismissed, with a burdensome sigh._

_There was a stifling pause in which Rey, herself, ceased to move. The two men still hadn’t realised that she had drawn so close and was listening in._

_“I burned this place to the ground once I realised your offence; how you were purposely holding me back,” Kylo spoke through gritted teeth. “You never trusted me, and you never believed in me for that matter—”_

_“I_ did _believe in you, Ben!”_

_“Then why were you so afraid of me?” he exclaimed, and his voice contraption couldn’t mask the blatant emotional wound Rey detected. It both shocked and affected her more than she could acknowledge there on that stormy hillside._

_“You know why, Ben…” Master Luke conveyed sadly. “I had my reasons; we all did back then.”_

_“You all marked me as doomed and unteachable from the very beginning!” he snarled._

_“That’s unfair of you to say.”_

_“‘Unfair’?” he scoffed, the distemper Rey had heard many times over suddenly returning with a vengeance. “Unfairness is to deceive those who trust in you! Someone like_ her _! She deserves to know!”_

_“It won’t do her any good,” Master Luke contested, shaking his head. “It’s important that she move forward with her training; not dawdle and remain stuck in the past. That was your biggest mistake, Ben. What’s done is done.”_

_Kylo squared his shoulders. “And you expect her to forgive you for keeping her from the truth?”_

_Master Luke didn’t appear ruffled one way or the other. “Perhaps…” he offered with a shrug. “She’s certainly more even-keeled than you ever were.”_

_“What about me?” Rey dared to speak up and both men whipped their heads around to face her, the violent wind catching on their long robes._

_“Nothing about you, Rey,” Master Luke hastily tried to cover for the both of them but Kylo was already advancing towards her, his gloved hands clamped at his sides. Rey reared back but held her ground, glaring up at Kylo’s mask with uncertainty and inquisition._

_“Ask the Jedi you reverie about your past,” Kylo suggested and Rey flinched, taken aback, “and see if he’ll reveal the truth.”_

_“_ Ben! _” Master Luke snapped, but Kylo turned to him defiantly before stomping off towards the hut._

_Master Luke and Rey locked eyes, with the younger appearing increasingly hesitant the longer her apprehensive eyes bore into his, now shifty and unable to maintain contact. “What about my past?” she choked, catching the subtle twitch of Master Luke’s beard. “What do you know that you aren’t telling me?”_


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : A friendly reminder - to the few readers following here - that, again, a good chunk of these chapters (up 'till around Chapter 20 or so) were written after _TFA_. As such, Poe's and Finn's characterizations might feel a touch different from _TLJ_ and _TRoS_. BUT I do wholeheartedly believe that Finn would not take Rey dating, let alone marrying and having children with, Ben Solo with tea and a smile (at least, not at first). I always aim for what feels authentic and real to me when I write and that's what I've aimed for here. **
> 
> **Furthermore, just to be perfectly clear: I have no dislike for Finn as a character, so while Rey and Finn might not be on the best of terms now, things may improve in chapters to come. That's all I'll say for now!**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 11**

_“The means by which we achieve victory are as important as the victory itself.”_  
―Brandon Sanderson

* * *

**Five Years Earlier**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

Ben’s large hand tugged at one of Rey’s hunched, trembling shoulders, coaxing her to turn around and face him, though she wasn’t particularly keen on doing so. She had been trying, without success, to disguise her tears during another drawn out strategic meeting with Resistance officials, and yet, she still wound up having to excuse herself more than halfway through their latest conference due to a persistent stinging in her eyes.

She hadn’t wanted to leave, of course, but once Ben began disclosing his latest intelligence pertaining to the Proclamation’s schemes to scout the outer rims for the location of a second Starkiller base, intending to add to their growing influence across the galaxy, Rey knew she wouldn’t be able to listen in for long. Not with her knowledge as to just how much her husband was sacrificing to obtain such vital information.

 _You’re hormonal_ , she dismissed herself, as she guardedly wiped at the tears coming to fruition in her eyes. She was six months pregnant, after all. Shouldn’t she be permitted the occasional emotional breakdown? _Not likely_ , she groaned, her watery irises unexpectedly meeting a one-time close friend’s seated across the room from her. 

_Finn_. The man’s normally charming brown eyes weren’t cordial in the slightest once they honed in on her for all but a second or two. Rey felt increasingly uncomfortable the longer she sat there, not desiring to listen to Ben’s report but, also, not wishing to be subjected to Finn’s unfriendly glare. She tried lowering her gaze to the ground or admiring the intricate computer systems stationed throughout the circular space of this conference room, none of which helped to improve her mood.

Her encounters with Finn hadn’t become easier over the years. If anything, they had worsened.

A far cry from the amicable encounters they used to share quite frequently during their early days with the Resistance, Rey and Finn hardly communicated more than a feigned, friendly ‘hello’ to one another anymore, a hard truth that had settled before the birth of Rey’s first child, Amidala, or her marriage to Ben Solo. _Since I first fell in love with Ben…_

The hardening reality of their broken friendship remained a painful wound to this day—at least, to Rey; she had no idea if Finn felt likewise.

Catching the two’s ill eye contact was Finn’s long-time partner, Poe Dameron, seated to his left. The roguish, salt and pepper-haired pilot offered Rey a more chipper salutation by smiling and politely nodding in her direction. He discreetly nudged his husband to follow his example, but Finn shot Poe a measured glare. Then, with reluctant consent, he acknowledged Rey a second time and in a similar fashion to Poe’s. It was upsetting to witness.

By then, Rey was practically crawling out of her skin. She knew these bothersome emotions had little to do with her pregnancy—or Finn, for that matter—and just as Ben was in the midst of divulging his newest compromising conversations with Supreme Leader Snoke to their allies via Holographies, Rey could take no more. She shimmied out of her seat behind where he stood and made for the door, seeing herself out as noiselessly as possible so as not to draw anyone’s attention, least of all her husband’s.

Unsurprisingly, Ben came searching for her anyhow, and Rey was disgruntled at being discovered crying in a confined closet space— _Of all places!_ —feet from where the meeting was still in session. Rey could overhear voices echoing from inside the room, but she and Ben readily ignored them as he beckoned her from her shadowy hiding spot to stand in front of him amidst glass windows and natural light.

“What’s the matter?” he inquired in a softer than usual register, glancing over his pregnant wife with apprehension.

“Nothing,” Rey replied too hastily. “I’m fine.”

Ben’s frown lines deepened. “You know I can tell when you’re full of shit, right?”

Rey matched that remark with a fiery stare down. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Fine.” He paused to thoroughly scan what he considered to be her marvellously transforming figure. Rey was petite and physically fit but with a beautifully swelling stomach that, for the father to be, regularly took his breath away. “You _are_ six months pregnant, though.”

“Your point?” she snapped, to which Ben reached out and delicately seized her by the arms.

“Whatever emotions you’re riding, Rey,” he counseled, taking a moment to eye her precious belly, “please consider that _she_ ‘s experiencing them, too…”

Irritated, Rey wiggled free of his grasp. “I had no idea,” she deadpanned, the irritation in her voice rising. “I’ve only been through this _twice_ before, as you may recall?” Ben rolled his eyes, wordlessly exasperated, but kept quiet. Quickly realising her sour mood, Rey rubbed at her forehead and cushioned her tone. “I’m sorry, love… I don’t mean to pick a fight with you. I’m just…having a hard time right now. Bloody hormones.”

“Are you feeling all right? Do you want to head home? We can slip out now if we—”

“No, no, I just… I just need a moment,” she insisted and patted his hand in reassurance. “Go back to the meeting before your mother suspects something and comes charging over here to badger us both to no end.”

Reading the distress lines written across her face, Ben decided against Rey’s advice. Instead, he stepped forward and enfolded his enormous arms around her back, eased her against his chest, and waited for her to relax. She shivered but willingly leaned into the man’s sturdy embrace, her much slimmer upper body roping around him in return.

“It won’t be like this forever, Rey,” he whispered into her ear following a short period of silence.

“You said that seven years ago after Ami was born,” she mumbled, dismayed. “And then five years ago after Han came along…”

“Did I?” he chuckled and lightly pecked the top of her head. “Well, perhaps _this_ will be the last time.”

Rey squeezed Ben’s much taller frame as intensely as she could. “I hope so.” Her faint words caught at the back of her throat. “I’m not sure how much more of this I can take, Ben…”

Ben’s hug tightened around her as well. “With any luck, Snoke will finally reveal all to me within the next year or so, and _then_ we can act. He’s suspicious and secretive, even with me… We don’t know enough yet to form an attack.”

Rey reared back to peer up into Ben’s face, ashen and rather fatigued but strikingly resolute, and was comforted by his eyes. They weren’t nearly as heavy and tragic as they had once been. That had all been before her. _Before us_. She kept her arms loosely woven around his waistline and stated softly, “I say we take out that blasted Star base at first light and be done with this whole bloody war once and for all.”

Ben tried to laugh off Rey’s pouty proposal, knowing she was being cynical with him (as well as hormonal); his laughter came out strained and weary, however, and she didn’t like the weight it carried. “Before we know the location of their second Starkiller base? I wish it was that simple. Snoke will go back into hiding at the first whiff of trouble; you know that. We’ll forfeit our only opportunity to confront him and, at last, put an end to this.”

“Yeah…like we thought we _had_ done when the First Order fell,” Rey morbidly pointed out. Her hand glided across Ben’s arm to cup one of his hands that was wrapped around her shoulder. She turned her face inward to place an ardent kiss inside his palm. “You’re not doing this alone, Ben,” she reminded him, with tenderness, “no matter how isolated you may feel at times.”

Ben’s subsequent smile was brief but no less appreciative. “I know.” The warm hand Rey clutched switched angles so as to thoughtfully trace her lips. “I have _you_.”

Rey felt unshed tears prickling at her eyes once more and tried to force them away. “I never wanted our children to grow up in this mess…”

“Neither did I.” Ben bent his neck in order to bring them forehead to forehead. “We’ll get through this, trust me, and Ami’s and Han’s futures will be all the brighter for the steps we’re taking.”

“Yes…” Rey exhaled a shaky breath. Her teary eyes and hands drew down to cradle her expanding belly. “And for this one, too.”

Ben’s hands lovingly reached out to cover Rey’s, caressing their unborn child. Several more kisses soon marked Rey’s forehead and she accepted each one in silence, closing her eyes to savour her husband’s steadfast affections.

Her eyes flew open moments later in confusion when Ben abruptly stepped back from her, breaking their enjoyable contact. She followed Ben’s reserved expression towards something over her shoulder and turned around. To her utter surprise, Finn and Poe were awkwardly standing behind them, swaying their weight from one leg to the other. Finn, in particular, looked sorely put out to be anywhere near them, though Rey suspected that his glum attitude had more to do with Ben than with her.

“Rey,” said Finn, his address rather clipped and lukewarm. He provided a curt nod whilst Poe, again, smiled cheerfully to the pair of them. After a pregnant pause, Poe muttered an excuse for leaving Finn’s side and hastened away in the opposite direction, clearly present only to provide his partner moral support to stand solo.

“Yes?” came Rey’s uneasy prod when the one-time Stormtrooper said nothing at first.

“Can I have a word with you,” he asked, shooting Ben a rather heedful glare, “alone?”

Uncertain, Rey warily turned to her husband. Ben’s eyes were incredulous as they stared back at Finn, but then they switched their attentions to her and instantly turned soft and accepting in their unspoken conveyance. He cupped one of Rey’s hands, brought it to his lips, and sealed the matter with a kiss.

“I’m going to ready the Falcon. Meet you there in five?”

“All right,” Rey agreed, peering up at him gratefully before he stalked out of sight, he and Finn barely acknowledging one another as they shifted sidelong in opposite directions to avoid brushing shoulders. Finn lowered his gaze so as not to make eye contact.

“So… What’s up?” Rey pressed first when Finn merely clenched his jaw and resumed staring without speaking.

“It’s, erm… It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” he finally replied, his address painfully stiff.

“Yes…it has.” Rey was unable to keep the sadness from trickling into her voice. “How are you, Finn?”

“I’m well, thanks.”

“And Poe?”

Finn’s eyes brightened a touch at the mention of his lover’s name. “Still the best pilot we got.”

Rey’s thin grin stretched. “I meant you and Poe.”

“Oh, we’re doing great, yeah. Everything’s super!” Finn tried to match Rey’s warmness, though, to her, his smile wasn’t authentic like it had once been, for it hardly reached his eyes. There was a gravity to her once-close friend now, a worn wisdom that came with time, life-changing experiences and living in a constant war zone. “Rocco’s taking flying lessons now. He’ll probably wind up a pilot just like his father, despite all my incessant grumblings and worries about it.”

“That’s understandable,” Rey offered in kind, making to keep the conversation light. “Han’s taken such a liking to flying, too. I think he may be headed in the same direction.”

“How old is he now?”

“Five. And Rocco is…?”

“Six, going on seven.”

“Wow, time flies…” Rey murmured, a certain tightness converging in the centre of her chest.

It was agonising to think on how much she and Finn were missing out in one another’s lives. They had each acquired life partners and started families, and yet, neither knew much at all about the other’s private blessings. In her wildest dreams, Rey never would have imagined that she and Finn would become so distant.

_As distant as strangers…_

“Yes, it does. I mean, it _has_ ,” Finn chortled, though, again, it sounded fictitious to Rey’s ears and that only deepened the wound. Finn’s terse smile soon solidified into a frown, his overall demeanour apparently no longer content to play false niceties. “Rey, I… I’ve wanted to catch up with you for such a long while now but… Well, it seems it’s difficult to catch you alone…erm, whenever you come to these meetings, I mean.”

“No,” Rey answered measuredly, “I wouldn’t be alone, would I?”

“No, I suppose not.” There was an underlying frustration to those few words that, at once, dug under Rey’s skin. She watched Finn sway back and forth, his body now tense and on edge. “I suppose your husband will always be accompanying you, won’t he?”

Rey blinked, befuddled. She had no idea what Finn was after by suddenly choosing to speak to her after so many years of silence and blatant dismissal, but between her pregnancy and capricious emotional state nowadays, she wasn’t game for mental warfare as well. “My husband’s with the Resistance, Finn,” she stated impassively, trying to tame her temper. “ _Of course_ he’s going to accompany me. He’s expected to give regular reports on his findings with the Proclamation. That is, when he can actually manage to get away from the enemy for more than a few days at a time and, also, spend quality time with me and the kids.”

“Rey, I’m just asking because—”

“Why? _Why_ are you asking?” Rey stressed, her blood pressure rising with each agonising second.

Finn’s eyes narrowed. “Well, to be frank, I figured I wasn’t permitted to speak to you so long as he was hanging around.”

Rey crossed her arms over her chest. “And what the hell gave you _that_ impression exactly?”

“The fact that you’ve been avoiding me all this time!” he exclaimed.

“You actually have the audacity to claim _I_ ‘ve been avoiding _you_?” Rey challenged through gritted teeth. She could hardly believe what she was hearing and lunged forward, purposely lowering her voice but straining to be heard. “This has nothing to do with Ben! And yes, Finn, he has a name! Have you forgotten that it was _you_ who wrote _me_ off years ago?”

“ _I was angry, Rey_!” Finn countered, throwing his hands out to his sides. “As far as I knew, you went off to train with Luke Skywalker to become a Jedi without so much as a ruddy goodbye or waiting to see if I’d recovered from what Kylo Ren— _yes, your wretched husband_ —did to me! Then you return to D’Qar months later with none other than that same bleedin’, vile—”

“Watch it,” Rey warned him, bracing her shoulders and raising a pointed finger into the air.

“—knave by your side; the same mental case who took you hostage, interrogated Poe to the point that he nearly lost his mind, and almost had me killed! How in the hell was I _supposed_ to react to that; with welcoming, open arms?”

“Finn, just where is this—?”

“You took up with him out of nowhere, Rey! _Kylo Ren_! Our greatest enemy!”

“No, _Snoke_ and _the Proclamation_ are our ‘greatest enemy’, Finn,” Rey snarled, “ _not_ my Ben! He certainly isn’t our enemy anymore and hasn’t been so for a very long time!” Issuing a calculated breath, Rey half reached for her formerly good friend before reconsidering her actions. “Finn, where is this outpouring of rage coming from? That was so long ago…and we haven’t been on speaking terms. Have you _really_ gone about hating me all this time?”

Finn’s expression turned drastically abashed, as if he had grown suddenly aware of his erratic behaviour. He darted his eyes towards the walls, refusing to meet Rey’s emotionally injured, despairing glare.

“If you remember, Finn,” she carried on speaking, though it pained her to recall the memories, “I tried to explain what happened with me and Ben to you—more than once, in fact—but you got so heated every time that you just stormed off, refusing to let me finish. No matter how many times I approached you, you wouldn’t listen and you didn’t want to hear my side.” Rey paused to draw breath, watching as Finn’s displeasure kept depleting like exhaust from an engine. “I finally had to give up chasing you. I… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I know, Rey. I know,” Finn sighed in agreement. He shot her a rueful look over and then presented her with an unexpected apology. “I’m sorry… Look, I didn’t approach you just so we could rehash the past. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Good, because I’m rather tired and not up for it.” Rey lowered her arms to her sides. “So, why _did_ you want to speak with me?”

Finn’s eyes were freshly sullen as they bore into hers, and the words that poured from his lips next shocked Rey to her core. “I’ve missed you…”

Rey was bereft of words. Her heart clinched with a sudden desperate hope. Years ago she had had to give up faith on ever rekindling a solid friendship with Finn that, for a moment, she wasn’t sure if her hearing had simply betrayed her. Then she tearfully confessed, her voice quivering with emotion, “I’ve missed you, too, Finn. _Very much_.”

“I… I’m relieved to hear that.” The quirk of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and, this time, Rey sensed its genuineness. “Listen, I… I know we may never share the closeness we once had but…” One of his hands unexpectedly reached for Rey’s, linking through them like an aged but never forgotten security blanket. The hope in Rey’s chest swelled. “I’d like to _not_ avoid you anymore when I see you, if you’ll not dodge me, too, all right?”

“Of course I won’t,” Rey eagerly assured him, unmindful of squeezing his hand. Finn returned the gesture.

“And your husband…” Finn carefully broached the subject. “He, erm, won’t mind, will he?”

“No,” Rey dismissed Finn’s undisguised worry with a snort, the tears in her eyes releasing. “I can’t vouch that he’ll ever offer you much in terms of affability and conversation but then…”

“I know that I’m just as guilty of not offering any of that myself,” Finn finished, with a gracious bow of his head. “Poe reminds me of my terribly poor manners all the time.”

“Yes, well…” Rey stared up into the now good-natured face of what she prayed would be a renewed friendship, trying to keep the want to break down and fully cry at bay. How she despised being so out of control of her emotions these days. “He’s a good man, Finn. I don’t expect you to believe me, but I need you to trust me and that I know my own heart; my own sound judgment. I’m with him _because_ of who he is.”

“That’s fair. He’s your husband and… And I can tell that you love him, and that he loves you.” Rey sensed that Finn didn’t quite concur—or, rather, was convinced—of Ben’s earnest return to the Light but to her, it was hardly a shock to the system. She merely hoped that maybe, with time, his attitude towards Ben might change.

“Thank you.” She batted at a couple lingering tears and smiled. “I’ll be so grateful when this little one arrives. I’m sick to death of crying at every ruddy turn; I’m over it!”

Finn joined in on her lifted spirits. “Congratulations.” Rey, warmed by his support, nodded. They stared at one another for another considerable moment before Finn quietly uttered in parting, squeezing her hand one last time, “It’s good to see you, Rey.”

“It’s good to see you, too, Finn.” Her hand reluctantly unlocked from his and, rather, pressed his shoulder; he mirrored her gift of goodwill. “We should catch up some more?”

“Soon,” he wholeheartedly agreed.

With that, the two stepped away from each other. Rey gave Finn a parting toss of her head and strolled off to join Ben outside of Resistance Headquarters, inwardly comforted by the treasure of a cheeky grin she remembered well from adventures’ past still gracing Finn’s lips as she walked away that day.

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star Base)**

Amidala flinched as the door to her cell whisked open. She could barely raise her head long enough to ascertain that Kylo Ren—no, her _father_ —was entering, pausing to assess the unstable energy tormenting her confinement.

He didn’t rush to his daughter’s aid but she could perceive that, even in the debilitating state she was fighting, he wanted most desperately to approach. He had to make certain that it was safe to do so first, however. His cloaked form was motionless, save for his head, which slowly tilted about the room, searching for the Darkness that chose to lurk in shadow.

Amidala yearned to look upon her father’s actual face rather than the bone-chilling mask of Kylo Ren but reckoned that that wouldn’t be likely so long as she and her family were trapped here. Would they ever make it to safety? Amidala was counting on her parents to formulate a plan of their own but, at the same time, she felt entirely drained to make a break for it now. 

_Must…rest…_

Another nauseating shiver washed over Amidala and she violently convulsed against the wall, sensing the Darkness brewing somewhere just out of reach, lying dormant for the time being but unwilling to leave her side. Of course there could be no rest. Why had she been daft enough to think Snoke might actually give her a reprieve and leave her family alone? 

_He won’t stop, Ami_ , she reminded herself, as her mind tired and began shutting down. _He’ll never stop. He swore to you he wouldn’t…_

Amidala tried to haul her knees to her chest but fumbled, what with having such a feeble grasp. She had been trying to bring her heart rate down for several minutes but hadn’t managed to properly centre herself, too worn down by Snoke’s recent mental assault to meditate as she should have done. Her dark eyelids fluttered open and suddenly discovered the sweeping robes that belonged to Kylo Ren directly in front of her, brushing against the toes of her boots. In the next instant, he had dropped to her level and had her face sandwiched between his gloved hands, forcing her to keep her head raised. It felt as though her mind weighed a thousand pounds, however, and Amidala would have gladly sunk to the floor and passed out had her father allowed for it; but he had no intention of letting her rest either.

“Stay with me, Ami,” that strange, deep voice contraption belonging to a monster urged of her. Her eyelids drooped but she wrestled the drowsiness that plagued her entire slouched body. “ _Stay with me_ ,” he repeated, his instructions pacifying, yet demanding. “ _I’m here_.”

“Dad…” Amidala made to speak but formulating words required too much effort.

“You’re shielding me, Ami. Lower your defences. It’s all right, it’s only me now. He’s gone.”

“No…” she mumbled, breathless, wilting into his touch. “He’s here… He’ll come again…”

“I’ll deal with that if he does,” Ben assured her, drawing closer. “Open your mind, Ami. It’s all right. I promise you’ll feel no pain.”

 _No… Mustn’t…_ Amidala sought to resist but her body, weakened and zapped of energy, evidently had had enough. Seconds later, her eyes rolled back into her head and she sagged forward into Ben’s arms, who was there to catch her fall and cradle her close.

 _‘I’ve got you,’_ he whispered, knowing his daughter would process the message. _‘It’s all right, Ami. I’ve got you now.’_

Without delay, Ben began meticulously scouring through Amidala’s mind, retracing what he could of the Darkness’ odious steps of violation and what Snoke had supposedly been after. What the hell did he want with her?

Since the unforgettable day of Amidala’s birth—one of the happiest moments of Ben Solo’s life—he had lived with the heart-sinking probability that one day his eldest child, whom he suspected would come to possess Force-sensitive gifts like him and Rey, might be approached by the same sick, conniving bastard who had lured him to the Dark Side in his youth. At night, he prayed to the stars in vain as he willed himself to sleep—far away from where he could protect those whom he loved most—that Amidala’s beloved gifts would go unrecognised and untainted by Snoke’s influence.

Ben thought that he and Rey had done a relatively clever job of protecting their children from their enemies, keeping them as far removed from this war as possible, and yet, as Snoke had proven earlier that day with Astrid, they, in fact, were failing miserably. Still, to Ben’s knowledge, this was the fiend’s first attempts at connecting with Amidala, and his initial endeavour had been most vicious an introduction, cruel and grossly undisciplined for the Sith who had seduced Ben with sweet nothings and false, glowing promises.

That both pained and heightened Ben’s alarm as he roamed through Amdiala’s recent memories. He began playing back some of their conversation in his daughter’s cell, feeling his insides churn and knot the more that was revealed to him. Amidala had made every strive to refuse him. 

_No…_ This, in reality, wasn’t their first encounter after all. How could that be? _No!_

In a wave of panic, Ben prowled deeper into his daughter’s past, picking up on shocking, horrid glimpses of previous encounters that had occurred between Amidala and the Dark Side’s most colluded, malevolent instigator without his knowledge. _No! NO!_ he realised, with putrid awareness that thrust him into a rapid spiral.

Ben staggered backward, giving repeated shakes of his head. He sprinted from the petrifying confirmation of what he had long ago feared might come to pass and wasn’t prepared yet to believe. He retreated to the outer most recesses of Amidala’s mind as furiously fast as his legs would carry him, not wanting to assess any more his daughter’s unwarranted suffering. Like him, she had tried to stay away—tried to rebuff and reject him—and, finally, Snoke had made his move, though it had been far more savage than his approach towards Ben had been. Rather than slow, meticulous, and conniving, hers had been beastly and a full-on assault when she had outright refused.

Scurrying back to hers and Snoke’s most recent confrontation, Ben halted as their voices rose in clarity and hostility, like an impending whirlpool about to drown him. As a father but, also, as a victim, it was excruciating to watch.

_‘TELL ME,’ Snoke hissed, with unmitigated wrath, ‘WHO IS YOUR FATHER?’_

_‘I – I won’t tell you!’ Amidala hollered bravely. Her attacker clawed ruthlessly at her defences and she battled him off, despite the magnificent awe and power she confronted alone._

_‘YOU SHALL! YOU_ WILL _!’_

_‘NO! Go away, I said!” she demanded, sounding frailer with each command. “Le – Leave me alone!’_

_‘YOU WILL COME TO ME! YOU WILL OBEY!’_

_‘I… I can’t!’ she wailed, her mental shields fracturing under Snoke’s sheer dominance and will; still, she fought him, pushing back against his swirling energy with all of her might. ‘I’ll never tell you who he is! NEVER!’_

_‘YOU AND YOUR BITCH OF A MOTHER—’_

_‘YOU WON’T LAY A HAND ON HER!’_

_Snoke howled, infuriated, but then gave an unanticipated gasp when Amidala’s Light made a sudden ferocious swipe, missing him by mere inches. Her move shocked and impressed Ben. Snoke responded with a threatening snarl that caused goosebumps to break out on his flesh._ _He knew that level of anger in the Supreme Leader…and it always led to greater suffering._

_‘You’ve left me no choice, you foolish girl! All those whom you love will pay the price for your insolence, I can assure you, starting with this…’_

_Snoke’s energy made a whiplashing retreat, wrenching out of Amidala’s mind with such mighty force and speed that the girl was physically knocked forward onto her hands and knees. She intensely shook from head to toe and looked as though she might be sick but, luckily, her stomach didn’t give way._

_With immense difficulty, Amidala crawled her way into an upright position, using the dirty floor and walls as purchases for balance. Ben waited another few heart-pounding moments, expecting something else to occur—for Snoke to, perhaps, return with a vengeance, intending to do Amidala more harm—and yet, to his amazement, the cad never came back for more. Where had he gone?_

_To Astrid_ , it slowly dawned on Ben, his throat catapulting into the pit of his stomach.

After witnessing about all he could bear, Ben eased out of Amidala’s mind, exiting without using the same pain-inducing pressure that Snoke had. He certainly had no interest in causing his daughter anymore physical distress. She remained out cold, however, her lanky body limp and unresponsive in his arms.

Ben stared down at her ghostly pale profile, stricken by what he had come to learn in a matter of seconds. _This is all my fault._ Much to his consternation, Amidala had apparently been rejecting Snoke’s pestering, relentless bribes and interrogations for far longer than he or Rey ever realised. Had it been weeks, months, or possibly years? _How could you_ not _know he was baiting her, you useless twat?_ Ben berated himself, enraged with his own lack of awareness, willing his insides not to wretch right then and there on the durasteel floors of Amidala’s cell.

He truly _had_ failed his children. _Every one of them._ Even little Han, who, as far as Ben could tell, was safe and unharmed for the time being—or as ‘all right’ as any innocent child could be whilst locked up against their will in a Proclamation cell—had fallen victim to his father’s lack of protection. _You failed them all._

 _Did Astrid tell him everything?_ Regardless of what the little one might have unveiled about him or Rey to the blood-thirsty Supreme Leader, Ben couldn’t afford to put too much stock in his fears. _Help Ami. Focus on the now._

Gliding a hand across Amidala’s forehead, Ben began commanding her to wake, transmitting one imperative message after the next until, a couple moments later, Amidala began to stir. A few seconds more and she came to, eyes fluttering and peering up into Ben’s seemingly intact facade. Petrified awareness soon shook within their depths and she shot up from the ground, unsurprisingly plunging back into his embrace before she could properly attempt to stand.

“Careful, Ami,” Ben counseled, easing her into an upright position with his aid. He kept one arm woven around her back, allowing the girl to get her bearings in order. “You’ve just come out of a very nasty mental assault—”

“I’m sorry, Dad!” she blurted out before he could finish, and Ben noted Amidala’s tears and trembling shoulders. “I’m so sorry! I tried to stop him! I _did_ try—”

Ben reached out to clasp one side of her face to keep her frantic eyes levelled with his. “ _I know you did, Ami._ It’s all right.”

“But I couldn’t stop him!” she blubbered on, fractured words pouring out between stifled sobs. “I don’t know why he didn’t break me completely! He – He could have—”

“He tired of fighting you is all. That’s why he gave up and decided to have a go at another.”

That forced Amidala to choke back on what she had been about to rattle next. “‘An – Another’?” she stammered, staring up at him beseechingly. She threw herself at Ben and clamped onto both of his bulky arms. “ _Han_? Wait, what? Why would he go after _him_? He doesn’t know the ways of the Force! What would he do to him—?”

“It wasn’t Han, Ami,” Ben caved into answering, albeit with hesitation, sensing the fluctuating waves of his daughter’s highly charged energy.

The realisation was hard and swift once Amidala considered who else it could be. “Mum? _NO_!” she cried out. “ _What’s he done to her_?”

“Ami, _hush_ ,” Ben insisted, keeping a firm hold on one side of her face, “it wasn’t your mother either. She’s fine, I promise. It… It was your sister.”

Amidala’s mouth fell open, aghast. “ _Astrid_?” A batch of fresh tears began flooding her cheeks. “Oh, no… Not – Not Astrid! _What have I done_? It’s all my fault! I’m so sorry, Dad! He should have hurt _me_ —”

“Stop it, Ami,” Ben made to calm her down, but she was too distraught and not listening. “ _It’s all right_. She’s with your mother now. She’s going to be fine, I…I think. Everything’s going to be all right, understood? Come.”

Ben pulled his overwrought daughter into a fervent embrace, but Amidala reared back, near-black eyes still widened with fright. “Dad, he – he was demanding to know who you were! If – If he attacked Astrid then he… _He probably knows_.”

“I’m not yet convinced that he’s discovered anything about me—”

“ _How can you say that_? Astrid wouldn’t be strong enough to fight him off!” She floundered in scrambling to her feet, prompting Ben to hoist her to her full height. Despite being shaken up from the demented hands of Snoke and struggling to stand on her own, as well as not registering Ben’s pain in seeing her physical struggle, just as it had been debilitating to watch what Astrid had gone through, she carried on. “Surely, he will have found out by now, Dad!” Visibly distressed and not at all thinking of her own afflictions, Amidala exclaimed, “You need to get out of here!”

“Ami, please calm down—”

“ _YOU NEED TO GO_!”

Ben was bewildered when Amidala suddenly charged at him, giving the towering, burly man a hard-hitting thrust with her fragile arms. Her impact was felt but, for someone of Ben’s size and build, it hardly carried the result she intended and he barely budged. Irked, she pushed her father again and again, intending to force him in the direction of the door, but Ben wouldn’t yield and wasn’t making it simpler for her.

In one swift move, he put a stop to the poor child’s efforts by seizing both of her wrists. “Ami, stop this,” he snarled through his voice contraption. “You’ll only make yourself worse by getting overly excited—”

“NO!” she barked, wet eyes staring pleadingly up at him; it was an extreme shift from the woeful exchange they had had almost two days ago, when she had first uncovered Kylo Ren and Ben Solo to be one and the same person. “You have to go! _NOW_!”

Ben thrust her arms out of the way and Amidala toppled backwards several steps, overrun by his much brawnier physique. She breathed hard and was about to shout something else when, with a sharp fluttering of his robes, Ben whirled around and took off.

There was no time for this nonsense. His daughter, though agitated, would recover soon, and he needed to escalate his family’s escape plans before they ran out of time. “I’ll send your brother in to look after you until I return,” he ordered over his shoulder, not glancing back before he took his leave.

“But, Dad—” Amidala started after him.

“—and when I do, I’ll have your lightsaber. You, Mum, Han, and Astrid will then make your way to my ship. Don’t hesitate; don’t you dare hold back; make sure you all get to my ship, _understood_?”

In a flash, Ben was gone, barring Amidala from him by unbending, cold durasteel. The unsettling silence that soon nestled into her cell only made Amidala’s fretting worse.

With a frustrated sigh, she threw herself onto the ground, closed her eyes, and, instead of meditating to get her emotions under wraps, sent a frantic telepathic message to her mother. Hopefully, she, at least, could convince her father to see reason.

Amidala rocked back and forth on her knees, waiting on pins and needles for her mother to reply. _You should have lied! Why didn’t you? You should have given him something that would have satisfied his curiosity! Then, maybe, he would have dropped the subject of Dad! And wouldn’t have gone after Astrid!_

She vehemently shook her head. Lie to Snoke? There was no lying to that grossly intelligent creature. He was the shrewdest Force-sensitive individual she had ever known, Dark or otherwise; smarter and more outwitting than her parents, both of whom she considered to be the greatest and most powerful Jedis in existence.

Then a harrowing (but brilliant) thought re-popped into her head. Amidala hitched a breath. _Give him something that will satisfy._ As she contemplated the slim selections that that might include, her mouth formed a single, unwavering line; but, of course, there _was_ something she could propose to the crazed demon who had terrorised her family long enough; who, in all likelihood, was about to go after her father next.

_Me…_

* * *

**Present Day**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

“I think you might be jumping to conclusions here, hon—”

Finn rounded on his lover, rambling with excitement as they rushed across the open air field, “If Luke Skywalker’s borrowing one of our Proclamation cruisers, you know something bad is cooking! He took Chewie with him, for cryin’ out loud!”

“What does _that_ mean?” Poe couldn’t help but laugh, not following Finn’s second train of thought. “The Wookie’s an old friend of the Jedi’s. Why should his presence be cause for alarm?”

“That Wookie doesn’t go anywhere that doesn’t automatically imply danger!”

“Hon, you’re really not making any sense—”

“Listen, I _know_ something’s wrong, all right?” Finn maintained, climbing the concrete steps to the front doors of Resistance Headquarters two at a time. “I just… I can feel it in my gut.”

“What, like the Force?” Poe teased, but he only received a razor-sharp glare for that supposedly ill-timed joke.

Giving an apologetic shrug, Poe scuttled after Finn through the glass doors, neither of them slowing their gaits ’till they reached the main conference room. Poe made one last ditch effort to stop Finn from entering their boss’ quarters unannounced. He grabbed Finn roughly by the elbow but his attempt was futile, for Finn wheeled his arm out of Poe’s grasp, threw open the heavy doors, and dashed inside.

“General Organa!” Finn wheezed, spotting her at the centre of the room where she appeared to be discussing a 3D model of some kind with her lieutenants. The model looked eerily like one might imagine Proclamation’s second Starkiller base design to be, but Finn said nothing about it. He had a more important message to get across.

Poe was right on Finn’s heel, offering profuse apologises to a startled Leia as they drew closer. “I’m sorry, General. He was insistent. I couldn’t stop him—”

“I saw Luke Skywalker and Chewie just take off with one of our Proclamation cruisers,” Finn spoke over Poe, as if the pilot hadn’t interrupted. “What’s going on?”

Leia nervously searched Finn’s panic-stricken face. “We have reason to believe that the Solo family— _my_ family,” she corrected herself, visibly wrestling to swallow the information she was sharing, “may be in trouble.”

“ _Rey_!” Finn jolted. His eyes widened in terror. “What’s happened, General? _What’s wrong_?”

“They seem to have somehow wound up at Proclamation’s main Star base.”

Finn’s eyes went from as large as saucers to enraged, thin slits. “What’s he done with them?”

Leia blinked, perturbed. “Snoke? I have no idea yet—”

“No,” Finn interrupted her, his voice low and oozing with unreleased fury for the man he thought he had overcome, “I mean _your bloomin’ son_.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 12**

“ _I never lie. At least not to those I don’t love.”_

―A. Rice

* * *

_Han Anakin Solo, aged seven, wielded his miniature freighter model across the galley-style kitchen of his family’s home, twisting his arm high and low and every which way as he played contentedly by himself, finding no problem in providing his own amusement. His scrunched up, freckled features were concentrated, his mouth pursed as he made various engine-like or laser beam sounds to the audience of a vacant room._

_He veered off towards the hallway at the end of the kitchen, away from the unoccupied stove and countertops, where the sudden soft-uttering of a Wookie’s call distracted his personal entertainment. Han turned about to eye Chewie, whom he had known for as long as he could remember, for the Wookie was as much a part of their family as Han’s own parents and sisters were, and smirked. Chewie was hunched over their circular dining table, looking markedly uncomfortable in such cramped quarters, with his knees practically digging into his chest in order to sit; but he wasn’t complaining. In his left paw, he held a second dainty spaceship model of his own talented making, and happily beckoned for Han to take it._

_Han broke out in an eager sprint and nearly collided with Chewie but for an obstructing chair that prevented his tumble. He cursed in pain, but Chewie’s reprehending growl drowned out the boy’s sharp yelp. Chewie placed the tiny space ship on the table between them and watched critically as Han took a moment to nurse his banged up, scrawny knees. He quietly t’sked at the seven-year old as well and shook his head._

_“Well, it’s not like I_ tried _to do that!” Han fired back, shooting the Wookie a sour look over._

_Chewie snorted, humoured, and crossed his arms gamely over his chest. He grunted towards the space model he had been trying to gift Han before the boy had had his unfortunate (minor) accident._

_“You sure?” Han inquired innocently, as he inched towards the new model which was freshly painted, with immaculate detailing and specifications only the Wookie’s knack could conjure. “I lost the last Resistance vessel you made me, Chewie. I’d hate to lose this one, too. You spent a lot of time on it—”_

_“Narrggghhhum!”_

_“Okay, okay!” Han snickered and flashed his furry friend an appreciative grin, delighted with his present. He carefully took the newest model in hand and inspected it at length. “Ahhh, you even spelled the letters right this time,” he mused after a thoughtful pause._

_“NARRRRRGGGG!”_

_Han reared back but didn’t appear all that perturbed by Chewie’s loud outburst. “Hey, I can still poke fun at you for that, can’t I?_ You _‘re the one who never lets up on my inability to restart the hyperdrive. That was_ one _time, you know, and over a year ago!”_

_“Annnugh,” Chewie huffed in a quieter fashion. “Huhhhmm.”_

_“All right, fine. I’ll stop if_ you _stop, how’s that?”_

_Chewie agreed through a low purr. He then settled back in his too-small chair, which groaned as though it might break under the Wookie’s great weight, and smoothed the hair at the top of his head. He observed a preoccupied Han with his toy with proud satisfaction, the boy an endearing reminder—sometimes a painful one—of his reckless, roguish grandfather._

_The Solos’ only son loved everything Chewie shared with him—at least, so far—whether it be something personal of the Wookie’s own making or a rare collector’s item the masterful smuggler ‘stumbled across’, as he slyly put it, or precious trinkets of personal significance, such as his grandfather’s favourite blaster pistol (unloaded, of course), handed down to Ben first following the fall of the First Order._

_Today was no exception._

_Han resumed playing with both miniature models, spinning about the room and occupying himself whilst Chewie happily looked on. It was only a couple minutes later that, whilst in the midst of deep-seated, private contemplations, the Wookie and a preoccupied Han found themselves interrupted by the sudden appearance of a third party_ _to their gathering._

_Han, still heavily engrossed in play, had both ships zooming towards one another in his hands, with the apparent intent of making them collide. The models evidently had other ideas in mind, however. Unexpectedly, the ships flicked out of Han’s hands. His eyes went wide with dread, at first, perturbed at having supposedly lost his grasp on his fragile gifts but, soon, he relaxed when they headed towards the ceiling rather than took a nosedive towards the ground, as gravity would have indicated. They enacted several impressive swerves and loops around the kitchen, twirling about Han but continuously evading his grasp. He laughed as the speeding ships almost brushed an ear or a shoulder but, otherwise, successfully dodged captivity._

_After several seconds of game and chase, the newer of the two models skidded onto the kitchen table, where it came to a screeching halt directly in front of Chewie, as if piloted to do so. The other landed safely in the palm of a hand, but it wasn’t Han’s or Chewie’s. Rather, that individual had entered the kitchen by way of the back door and Han’s eyes, at once, lit up at the presence of the pale, somewhat scruffy but relaxed face of his father turning the model over in hand._

“ _Dad!” Han exclaimed, searching Ben’s quiet, slim smile and dark eyes. He rushed towards him to retrieve his ship, finding the depths of those eyes he knew so well looking more spirited than usual which comforted him. He didn’t like the undertones of stress and anxiety he too often glimpsed burrowed beneath his father’s warm, welcoming exterior whenever he returned home from another mysterious ‘mission’._

_Without missing a beat, Ben bent down to offer his son the return of his model. Han greedily snatched it from his large hand and started to step backward when he was effortlessly pulled into a near suffocating hug. Han cackled and squirmed, trying to wiggle his way to freedom, but Ben’s big arms and sheer strength far outmatched the gawky seven-year old’s; he was forced to give up. His flimsy arms fell loose, prompting Ben to, at last, relinquish his hold. Han then darted out of his clutches and hurried over to the kitchen table to gather up his second model as well, with Ben following closely at his son’s heel._

“ _Were you good for Chewie?” he inquired innocently, his tone serious but his expression unbothered._

_Han shrugged and only just avoided Ben’s quick-thinking, facetious attempt at tussling his shaggy locks that, much to Rey’s grievances, were in dire need of a ‘trim’. He scampered away, grinning from ear to ear. Chewie answered Ben’s question with a short, light-hearted howl._

“ _It’s not like I tried that either!” Han immediately went on the defence, giving a showy but nonchalant toss of his head._

_Ben turned from Chewie to his son, eyebrows slightly raised. “You mean to tell me you had no intentions of sneaking off with your mother on her speeder this morning?”_

_Han’s mischievous eyes flashed in shock. “How did you—?”_

“ _You just_ happened _to have tucked yourself into the engine room?” Ben prodded his son for answers, though lightly, making sure to eye Han over with a tint of austerity he knew his wife would appreciate._

_Han’s mouth dropped. “I wanted to check out how it was working for her, that’s all!” A frown replaced his previously wicked smile. “And anyway, how do you know that, Dad? You’ve been gone for days!”_

“ _Just because I’m not here all the time, son, doesn’t mean my eyes aren’t everywhere.”_

_Han rolled his eyes in response and sighed. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered under his breath, choosing to intently inspect the small ships in his hands rather than chance speaking again and risk getting himself into more trouble._

_To Ben, it was an obvious sidestepping tactic he understood all too well: the stubborn refusal to admit guilt. According to both his mother_ and _Rey, it was ‘a Solo family trait’. He remembered demonstrating much of the same behaviour at Han’s age—and beyond—though he wasn’t about to give anyone in his family, including his Always Right Wife, the satisfaction of_ that _admittance._

_Ben and Chewie shared a knowing, silent exchange before Ben started on Han’s reprehensible actions again. “Han, you know better than to sneak off like that—”_

“ _I just wanted to tag along,” he moped over his father’s scorn, slumping his shoulders in frustration. “You and Mum never let me go anywhere with you…”_

That _tugged significantly at Ben’s heartstrings, the parent in him not hesitating to step closer and offer solace. “Some of your mother’s tasks for the Resistance aren’t safe, Han, and mine never are. You know this. That’s why Chewie came by today.”_

“ _Arnnghhhharrr,” Chewie added in support of Ben. He emphatically nodded his head, too, but Han’s glum expression remained._

“ _Why are you all so secretive all the time?” He peered up at the reformed Jedi, emotional injury on display in a manner that Ben wasn’t accustomed to seeing in his second child, for Han was normally the most carefree and non-objective of their brood. “What’s the big deal?”_

_“‘The big deal’?” Ben sniped. His face fell at noting the dismay and regret that subsequently whisked across Han’s ingenuous face._

_Ben raked his fingers through his hair in order to eliminate the boiling anger that now had his fingertips tingling when they shouldn’t._ You’re tired _, he stressed to himself and hurriedly made to switch off his souring attitude. He never allowed that side to him to remotely surface in front of his family—at least, he made every effort_ _not to let it slip._

_Han’s exasperations weren’t unfounded or misunderstood, for that matter, and Ben reminded himself of that sobering fact as he made to ease his temper. His children weren’t completely artless to the Dark forces spreading across the galaxy, after all; it had simply been his and Rey’s firm agreement that they would share only what they deemed their children could emotionally handle. For Ben, and that of his compromising guise, Han’s and his sisters’ awareness was not negotiable or up for discussion._

_He half reached out to Han, wanting to put the boy’s restless mind at ease. “Han… We’ve discussed this. It’s not that your mother and I don’t_ want _to tell you certain things but we simply can’t—”_

“ _I’m sick of the secrets,” Han grumbled into his chest. He slid farther away from Ben, not allowing his father to touch his shoulder as he so sought to do. “I’m sick of you lying to me all the time.”_

_Chewie made a small, saddened noise. Ben stared on, bereft. “Lying to you?” he emphasised but with caution. “Han, don’t say that…”_

_Some of Han’s inner turmoil deflated after another slouch of his shoulders. He whispered, without meeting Ben’s discontented gaze, “It’s like you don’t trust me or something…”_

_Ben started and heard Chewie’s faint response from afar. He gathered an arm around Han’s shoulder in one fell swoop before the lad could get away from him this time and heaved him securely against his side, relieved when Han didn’t fight him off. “Is_ that _what you think?” he pressed, each word weighty and considerate. “Because you couldn’t be more wrong, Han.”_

_Slowly, Han glanced up at his father, his mouth still set in a downtrodden frown. “Then why the secrets, Dad?”_

“ _They’re not ‘secrets’, Han. They’re…_ confidential _is all.” Issuing a weary sigh, for Han only shook his head in disappointment, Ben scrubbed at his red-rimmed eyes and stubble, pleading ever so softly when his son didn’t appear anymore appeased, “Please, Han… Can we drop this?”_

_Han lowered his defences—and his eyes—and uttered nothing else contesting on the sore subject, sensing the gravity in Ben’s wish._ _As adamantly as he may have felt about his own stance on his parents’ vague roles with the Resistance, he wasn’t interested in making his father feel worse_.

_No less upset that his son was feeling so disregarded, Ben squeezed Han tighter and planted an affirmative kiss on the boy’s forehead, speaking faintly into his unkempt hair, “I’ve missed you, you know.”_

_Much to his alleviation, Han mumbled a short time later, “I’ve missed you, too, Dad.” His head reclined into Ben’s chest and, after a short pause, he piped up, “Did Mum tell you about the speeder…or did Chewie rat on me this time?”_

_Chewie let out an affronted-sounding growl. Ben was forced to suppress a laugh into his son’s uncombed hair. Han spooked at Chewie’s distemper and was about to say something else to the affronted Wookie when he was cut off by another, who declared rather wryly from the backdoor, “That would be your_ mother _‘s doing, Han, thank you very much. Why do you think Chewie was forced to play babysitter today rather than go with me?”_

_Ben’s sights flickered in the female voice’s direction, where they came to rest upon the stunning visual of his other half, dressed in sleeveless, flowing, light gray robes. Her windswept hair, half undone and hanging freely over her bare shoulders, rippled with the gentle westward breeze that swept through the kitchen by way of an open window._

_Rey greeted him and Han in her sunny, inviting disposition as always, permeating a pool of warmth that bathed away some of the lingering tension in Ben’s body. It was still awfully remarkable to him to be on the receiving end of such a tender-hearted greeting, even after so many years of a regularly comforting gift._

_Evidently not noting the consolation her mere presence provided, Rey started for her husband and son, eyes eagerly locked on Ben’s, when she was blocked by the furry, massive silhouette of Chewie. He got to her first and enveloped her in an acute hug, picking the Jedi straight off the floor._

“ _Thank you for doing this, Chewie,” Rey chuckled once the Wookie had placed her carefully back on solid ground. “I owe you one.”_

“ _N’arrgggg,” Chewie dismissed and patted her shoulder. He respectfully stepped aside, allowing Rey to reach her other two family members who were awaiting kisses and hugs._

_Rey bent down to peck both of Han’s cheeks first, and her son blushed to his roots. She then leaned into Ben for a proper kiss on the lips and felt him ease her against him, one hand pressed lightly on the smallness of her back to deepen the exchange. One of her arms slunk around his back, too, their mouths joined and seeking peace from one another._

_Although she didn’t want to cut their much desired, highly anticipated lip lock short, Rey forced their mouths apart in order to appropriately scrutinise her husband. He pouted at her having put an abrupt end to what could have been a rather steamy ‘hello’. That, though affecting, wasn’t enough to deflect Rey from noting his extremely pallid complexion, however, not new but still alarming, nonetheless; or the underlying negative energy he carried about with him—and was doing his best to suppress—and_ that _was of great concern to her as well._

_Rey had detected that well-acquainted Dark energy nearly as soon as she approached the back of the house and its presence had caught her off guard. Normally, when Ben returned to his family following his time away as Kylo Ren (which he made every attempt to keep to only a few days at a time), he made a point of staying a considerable distance from their home for a time in order to switch out of that highly charged, negative semblance before venturing any closer._

_From what Rey could sense, something had occurred to either trigger its potentially hazardous release or, she feared, Ben was simply struggling to get it under control._ _“Everything all right?” she inquired as nonchalantly as possible, making sure to keep her demeanour light and airy, though her watchful eyes bore critically into his._

“ _Yes,” he returned simply, tearing his gaze away from Rey to glance at their now sheepish-looking son. “Han and I were just discussing his little escape plan this morning—”_

“ _Uh, I think I’ll go play upstairs now.” Han suddenly bolted from under Ben’s arm before either of his parents could stop him. He made a gusty dash for the stairs, calling over his shoulder as he clumsily climbed the steps two at a time to his bedroom, “Thanks for the new model, Chewie! See you later!”_

_Ben sighed, defeated, and turned to Rey, now half smiling. “So,” she prodded once their son was out of sight, “what did I miss?”_

“ _He’s upset that we never take him on any of our missions…and he doesn’t think that we trust him.”_

_Rey’s heart sunk at learning that disclosure but Chewie, who had strode closer to the couple in the interim, came round to Ben’s side, exchanged a few grunts and cries before Rey could offer a reassuring word, and clapped him hard on the shoulder. “Thank you, Chewie,” Ben replied, though his expression was notably rigid and dismayed. Chewie tried patting Ben’s shoulder again, but the spy’s hardened exterior didn’t cushion for the attentive Wookie._

_In parting, a disheartened Chewie shoved Ben into one of his more aggressive, forceful hugs, and Ben gasped before relaxing into his long-time friend’s suffocating hold. “All right, all right,” he chuckled under his breath. Rey quietly surmised that Ben’s admission was mostly for Chewie’s benefit and not his own. “You’re right, Chewie. I know; I’ll try not to.”_

_Chewie released Ben, squeezed Rey’s arm in consolation, and took his leave, his loud footsteps echoing across the kitchen floor before they faded into silence following the shutting of the backdoor. Ben and Rey kept their eyes glued to one another after he had gone, each seemingly reading the other’s wordless thoughts._

_From the top of the stairwell, Han slowly made his way up the remaining two steps, knowing that, whatever his father had to say next about his top secret mission—or his mother’s concern for his welfare—would only serve to frighten him. Whilst he yearned to learn more about what his parents were up to, a fearful part of the boy held himself back from obtaining vital clues._

_Maybe he really_ was _better off blinded to it all._

* * *

_Master Luke’s lips formed a slim line, a series of thoughts clearly spinning behind the wary, soulful eyes Rey had come to know. Rey, meanwhile, glared him down, waiting impatiently for her master to start explaining himself. She wanted to berate him for keeping any such personal intelligence from her that might involve her past—a backstory she had long struggled to reconstruct and remember in any sufficient detail—and yet, she found herself suddenly hesitant to move forward with what truths the Jedi was guarding her from._

_What then? What would it all mean once she knew what had become of her parents? How would her life change? Surely,_ everything _was about to change…for good or ill, she knew not. Yet._

_Furthermore, why was Kylo Ren the one bringing her past to light? How did_ that _slick instigator evidently know more about Rey than she supposedly knew about herself? That disquieting predicament put her even more on edge, not to mention made her leery about unearthing whatever information was about to be divulged. Were she and Kylo Ren connected in a way outside of the Force that she had deeply suspected since first being taken hostage by him months ago; or was that all in her overwrought, overrun imagination? She was praying like mad for the latter._

“ _Rey,” Master Luke started to speak but seemed to rethink his initial approach, for he shut his mouth._

_Rey rolled her shoulders back and set her jaw. “_ Well _?” she pushed when, unsurprisingly, the Jedi Master acted unforthcoming._

_Master Luke settled for a long, drawn out pause and a firm toss of his head. “Come with me,” he commanded, though his voice was hoarse and strained._

_Rey kept a sharp eye on the old man as he shuffled around her and walked elsewhere. With equal parts eagerness and reluctance in her step, she followed behind, the waves of panic thrashing her stomach and gathering strength the closer they ventured towards the hut. Kylo Ren had disappeared—or, at the very least, had gone for a stroll around the island to clear his head—for he wasn’t anywhere to be found when they entered the empty abode._

_Master Luke piled on more wood into the stone fireplace and muttered incoherently under his breath. Rey took a seat on the floor in the centre of the room and moved the wooden table reserved for meals out of the way, unsure of what was to come; or, rather, what to do with her hands that wouldn’t cease trembling._

_Master Luke eventually joined her, quietly accessing the former scavenger-turned apprentice of his long and hard. Then, as if coming to a resolve with his own inner unrest, he silently consented to carrying on with matters. He extended his mechanical hand to Rey, requesting that she take it, and Rey accepted the gesture, though this time with trepidation._

“ _What I share with you, Rey,” the aged Jedi explained diffidently, keeping his eyes level with hers, “I share in the confidence that you will use the resources I’ve given you to this point to forge ahead, not behind. Remember what I’ve taught you, my stubborn Padawan: there is nothing to be gained by retreating to the past. Open your mind to this knowledge but, I beg of you, do_ not _tear open your feelings to what you see; it won’t do you any good and you know this. I don’t wish you to dwell on what was; it’s your_ future _that counts.”_

_Rey gave a nervous swallow. “Let_ me _be the judge of that, Master.”_

“ _No,” he urged, his robotic fingers clamping down hard around her hand, “that’s not a suitable answer.”_

“ _It’s not suitable for_ you _to keep secrets pertaining to_ my _past from me, is it, Master?”_

_Master Luke’s mouth twitched. “It’s been for your own good, Rey—”_

“ _Again,_ I _‘ll be the judge of that, please.” Rey shifted her crossed legs together. “Shall we get on with it?”_

_Master Luke nodded, though he didn’t appear at all at ease about doing so. He and Rey began a new form of meditation she hadn’t attempted before, however: an exercise that allowed memories to be transmitted between Force-sensitives. Rey copied the Jedi’s technique of closing her eyes and trying to place an emphasis on each breath she took. It was a struggle to centre herself, though, especially once brightly-woven images began flashing in front of her eyes. They started out blurry and distorted but gradually slid into focus._

_Rey was startled to discover her much younger self in the first memory that took shape. She was about five or six-years old, skipping forward in plain beige robes she had since replicated into adulthood. The grass upon which she trotted was lush and green, the same as belonging to the island that had recently become her refuge. There were familiar black rocks and stormy seas that she could see, touch, and hear, and their reemergence in this memory, at once, piqued Rey’s interest. She had felt she had been to Ahch-To before, and this memory was already affording the confirmation she sought.  
_

_A lithe, taller figure was strolling beside little Rey, holding the girl’s hand and tugging on her tiny arm to put an end to her whimsical play time with the tall blades of grass. “I need you to walk now, sweet one. We’re nearly there.”_

_Young Rey glanced up at the face of the person in charge, but meditative Rey was speechless at the face that came into view: warm and ethereal, a most beautiful woman whom her subconscious recognised but couldn’t quite place—at least, not in her more recent history. She had wavy, long brown tresses that were braided from her roots to her backside and dazzling azure-coloured irises. Rey’s heart beat quickened. The woman_ had _to be her mother._

Mum…

_Moments later, Rey’s confused, younger self almost stumbled into someone in front of her, though her heart fluttered in excitement when she took in the individual’s gentle face, trimmed beard, and robes. The person was Master Luke himself, dressed in the same cloak and attire he wore in the present, only he was far more spirited in this flashback, with a non-forceful smile and bright blue eyes that were most welcoming to the bouncy little girl._

_“You must be Rey,” he greeted her, with warmth in his voice, and bent down somewhat to peer into her round, idiolising eyes. “I’m Luke Skywalker. I’ll be your teacher in the ways of the Force.”_

“ _You will?” she questioned, breathless, though Rey sensed that her younger self wasn’t quite comprehending what precisely he meant. It was reminiscent of that strange, frightening lure that had pulled at her all of her life and for which she hadn’t been able to name until now; the terrifying knowledge that she was different and could perceive—and alter—an energy that never physically manifested or made itself known in her youth._

_Master Luke nodded in encouragement, catching as little Rey’s curious eyes fluttered to another individual standing beside him. He was slender, perhaps a little too thin, but immensely tall for a teenage boy. She wasn’t sure how old he was but he didn’t appear to be more than fifteen or sixteen-years of age. Yet, he had already outgrown Master Luke in height._

“ _This is my oldest Pawawan learner,” Master Luke began to introduce._

_An inkling stirred meditative Rey as she watched herself and this person interact for the first time._ _A small jolt echoed from her seated position on the floor, too, the puzzle of her past piecing itself together into harmony. This wasn’t just any boy she had encountered once or twice as a child. She and he shared a history, a deep, unwavering connection, and she wasn’t sure how complicated that might become; but she could feel it with every skip of her heart._

_Before Master Luke or the boy could utter his name, Rey already knew it: Kylo Ren, except he_ wasn’t _Kylo Ren here. Not yet. He went by another name; his truest self.  
_

_An intriguing, calamitous reflection of the man’s adolescent self—before the hollowed eyes, emptiness, and swallowing Darkness had consumed his soul—showing him remarkably changed to the point of being almost unrecognisable looked upon her with kindness and affection. He donned beige robes that marked that of a Jedi in training, though they were darker in hue than Master Luke’s. His hair was black, curly and long, but with a sidelong braid that draped over his right shoulder. Most fascinating of all was his face, however. He may have somewhat resembled the harsher, sharpened countenance Rey had come to memorise, but a younger Kylo Ren’s eyes weren’t nearly as sunken in or desolate. His smile, too, at meeting little Rey wasn’t disingenuous or hair-raising but, rather, sweet, even fetching_ _in all its gawkiness._

“ _He’ll be your second teacher when I’m not around,” Master Luke finished explaining._

“ _How do you do?” Little Rey reached out her small hand, and Kylo Ren crouched down to be at eye level with her. Without hesitation, he graciously accepted it into his own. His hand completely engulfed hers._

“ _Nice to meet you, Rey. I’m Ben.”_

Ben Solo… 

_Meditative Rey’s breath stalled, the utterance of the boy’s name sending crashing waves of long buried feelings she didn’t quite understand thrashing to the surface. They really_ did _share a history with each other, and yet, Rey could recall none of it. How was that possible? It wasn’t trying to search her feelings and remember how, during her interrogation, Rey had sensed more than just a Force tug-of-war between them. Something much deeper was there, glazed over and patched up, and not by Rey._

Now it all makes sense _, she realised, with horror and amazement alike._ I knew him before any of this…

“ _This is where we leave you, my love,” came the affectionate but upsetting register of her mother._

_Rey, who had long lost hope of ever reclaiming what her mother used to refer to her by—or what her voice sounded like at that—was suddenly flooded with past dialogues the two had exchanged when she was a child. Her younger self interrupted those reflections, however, for little Rey clutched at her mother’s robes and burst into tears._

_“NO!” she cried, as her mother made to push her away, though her hands were shaking. “Don’t go, Mummy! Please! DON’T GO!”_

“ _My little one, it’s all right,” the tender, lower register of her father interrupted, his stubby hands coming into view to drag Rey off of her mother’s clothes. Meditative Rey startled. She hadn’t sensed her father’s presence until the man was evidently standing in front of her, as if materialising out of thin air. He had serene, hazel eyes—the same as hers—and wispy, short hair that was a touch darker than her mother’s. He had a well-groomed beard and was smiling at his daughter through his tears; his fatherly expression shattered Rey’s heart. “We’ll visit you when we can—”_

“ _No, no, no! Please, Daddy! Mummy! Don’t leave me!”_

“ _Hey, Rey?” It was Ben who spoke this time, and he placed a caring hand on her small back to garner her attention. Little Rey eyed the boy sidelong whilst continuing to try to cling to her mother. “It’s going to be all right, I promise.”_

“ _But Mummy… Daddy…” she whimpered, tears leaking down her perfect little cheeks._

“ _My parents left me here, too, when I was a little older than you, and I came to love it; you will, too." His eyes betrayed those words, and yet, still, he tried to comfort her. "They’ll come back to see you, Rey. It’s all going to be fine. You’ll see.”_

_With a little more fragile coaxing from all three adults, as well as Ben Solo, Rey was finally separated from her parents; but not willingly. Her father had to force her mother to turn their backs and walk back across the island to where their vessel awaited them, and it looked as though it was the hardest, most painful walk of their lives._

_A gutted young Rey watched them go. The farther they retreated, the harder she cried._

_Ben surprised meditative Rey by scooping her smaller self into his arms, where she allowed the boy to embrace her but kept her watery eyes fixated on her parents’ fading silhouettes. As their ship ascended into the sky, Rey let out several gut-wrenching wails and became inconsolable. She burrowed her face in Ben’s neck once their ship finally disappeared in the sky, the boy speaking soothing words into her ear and rubbing his hand across her back to tame her heartache._

_Master Luke gave instructions to Ben to help acclimate little Rey into her new quarters, lightly patted the girl’s back as well, and set off in the opposite direction, leaving Ben to look after the emotionally traumatised five or six-year old. He didn’t seem perturbed by her crying and simply escorted her, in his arms, towards a series of stone huts a short distance off. Every so often he whispered words of solace in her ear. With time, her cries subsided, but she kept her face burrowed into Ben’s neck for the remainder of the day, refusing to let him put her down._

_Rey wasn’t sure why her younger self felt such safety being close to Ben, particularly as he swept her away from where her parents had so abruptly left her. Considering the villain he would grow to become, it was as though she was gazing upon an entirely different human being than the one she now spat with. Apparently, there was much more interwoven to their tragic backgrounds...and all Rey could do was brace herself for whatever was about to be revealed next._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Han eyed his silent older sister sidelong, studying her subtle mannerisms thoroughly and without commentary—at least, thus far. He wiggled his nose on occasion or scratched the top of his head but otherwise remained mute and still, seated next to Amidala on the hard floor of her cell.

Han had been tasked with watching her by his father less than ten minutes ago, so he wasn’t going to take such an order lightly. He had never been especially good at discretion (well, not emotionally anyway, for his feelings tended to openly run themselves across his charming face, despite his best efforts to conceal them at times); but the ten-year old boy _was_ rather shrewd when it came to detecting matters that lay beneath the surface, whether it be underlying emotions someone was trying to hide from him or problem-solving the intricate inner-workings of a decrepit Millennium Falcon not running at the speed and capacity with which she should.

He wasn’t sure which was worse, really: being able to read people so easily and thereby determine when they were lying to him or blissful ignorance. It was a dilemma the happy-go-lucky innocence in him was attempting to work out on a daily basis.

Today was a day Han would much have preferred naiveté but unless he got hit in the head by a blaster, general stupidity about what was happening all around him wouldn’t serve him well, particularly not in getting away from the enemy.

Han had little doubt that his father had been dishonest with him shortly before disappearing out of their holding cell. Having Ben unexpectedly turn up in his cell earlier had been a tremendous relief, though learning of the harrowing mental assaults his sisters had undergone in his absence hadn’t appeased the poor boy’s already charged nerves. Ben had been brief in his relaying of recent events, not offering forth much of the details a worried Han craved, and hurriedly escorted his son out of his cell and into Amidala’s, where he and his sister had since sat upon the ground in suppressed silence, waiting on pins and needles for Ben’s return; or some signal that an escape was about to commence.

“You know how to fly a command shuttle?” Ben had asked Han after securing Amidala’s cell door shut.

Han’s eyebrows rose to his hairline, hidden by too long, dishevelled bangs. “I… I’m not sure,” he hesitated in answering, but the metal mask his father wore made glimpsing Ben’s reaction to his lack of confidence impossible.

“Well, you’re going to learn today,” he collectedly pressed Han, the deep contraption of his voice not indicating any uneasiness on that nerve-wracking score. “Your mother will need your help to fly out of here, Han.”

“With what?” Han asked, angling his head up at Ben.

“My ship.”

“ _Yours_?” Han’s eyes widened in shock before morphing into utmost dread. He vehemently began shaking his head back and forth. “Dad, no, you can’t—”

“The decision’s been made, Han, and we haven’t much time. I need to retrieve some things for you all first. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Han startled when his father’s stark, towering frame retreated from him. He pounced forward and seized Ben by the arm, yanking with all his might to bring the disguised Resistance fighter back to his side. His inadequate strength barely made an impact, though Ben halted anyhow and peered down at his panic-stricken son expectantly.

“What about the Falcon, Dad? Can’t we somehow get to her to—”

“The Falcon was left behind by the Proclamation.” Perceiving the horror and concern that materialised on Han’s face, Ben added in haste, “We’ll get her back, son, but not now. My ship is the easiest solution for you all to get out of here. No one will suspect it being stolen under my watch, and I can ensure that no one is around to guard or protect it.”

“ _But, Dad_ —”

“Don’t argue with him, Han,” Amidala muttered from behind him, shivering slightly as she rocked on the solid durasteel floor whilst squeezing her knees to her chest. “It’s useless. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Han thought he detected his father make a noise at that—something akin to an aggravated growl—but he offered forth no actual retort. Instead, he spun around again, intending to leave, but Han leapt for him a second time. He was unsuccessful in nabbing Ben’s arm this round. “Dad!” he frantically called after him and ‘Kylo Ren’ turned to stare. For whatever reason, Ben’s domineering guise stifled some of Han’s fortitude. “You… You’re coming with us, aren’t you?” he pressed, his voice like a desperate, child-like whisper in the dark.

Ben stared on, not answering for what felt like a minuscule second too long for Han’s liking. Then he nodded, softly answered, “Yes,” and stalked out of the cell without another word.

_That was most definitely a lie._

The doors whipped shut behind him, the silence it left behind making Han unconvinced and more afraid than ever. He turned to his sister, entirely unsure in that moment of what to say or do. Amidala glanced up at him, too, and Han was stricken by her pasty complexion. Whatever that horrid Proclamation leader, Snoke, had done to her, it had affected her ability to speak or move properly.

“He’ll come,” she tried to assure her stricken brother, though the words were too quiet. “He’ll want to ensure we actually get out of here this time.”

“Yeah…I guess so.”

After a resounding sigh, Han joined Amidala in the centre of the room, still deeply sceptical of their father’s intentions. The dubious lines that marked his brow remained on display as he sat, pondering what little Ben had disclosed of the family’s escape plan. As each minute passed, he grew increasingly troubled rather than encouraged by what he knew. Han didn’t know the outline of this base well—or how bad the odds of another escape might factor out—but confiscating his father’s command shuttle sounded counterproductive, not to mention extremely unwise, to undertake.

Why would his mother have agreed to such a scheme when it potentially placed their father in jeopardy with the Proclamation? He had heard enough ghastly rumours of how the enemy dealt with traitors but, also, in how they reprimanded their own. The gruesome thought was enough to make Han pull his legs to his chest, much like Amidala had, and grip them tightly.

“He _has_ to come with us,” he finally spoke aloud, unaware that he had, in fact, said it, until Amidala turned her head.

“He _will_ , Han.”

“How can you be so sure?” Han challenged, his eyebrows coming sharply together. “You heard him. He didn’t sound all that convincing—”

“Trust me,” Amidala insisted, turning her gaze to the cell door blocking them from freedom, as if it held some sort of secret indicator, “he’ll come.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : In case anyone out there cares to know (because I do think this chapter bears an explanation), I originally wrote this chapter after _TFA_. As such, I was pretty heavily convinced at the time that Ben was responsible for the destruction of the Jedi Temple in _some_ capacity. **
> 
> **Therefore, a certain scene in this chapter is not flattering or much mirrors what we know from new "canon" material (for which I place "canon" in quotation marks, as I consider anything outside of the films directly to be fanlore. If they didn't show it on screen then, in my eyes, it's free for interpretation). Even though my version may be a bit more devastating than the canonverse from, say, _The Rise of Kylo Ren_ (which I'm actually not following in any detail), I think it makes Ben's redemption in this story all the sweeter. **
> 
> **I hope someone else will see it that way as well...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 13**

“ _One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but making the darkness conscious.”_

—Carl Jung

* * *

_Meditative Rey watched with fascination and reluctance as the last remnants of the haunting image of her younger self clinging to Ben Solo morphed into another time and space, and not too far after that life-altering moment on the island of Ahch-To. Glimpses of the early part of her training to become a young Jedi danced before her sights, from her curious first steps into Master Luke’s introduction class, in which every new Padawan cross-legged on the floor was, at least, two or three years older than her, and with Ben gently coaxing her along to the front of the room by way of a comforting hand, to several lightsaber training sessions after that her current self would have struggled to achieve, let alone a five-year old, to studious learning of the various planets, solar systems, and their individual inhabitants._

_How had she forgotten such vital teachings? How could she have gone from a little Padawan learner to a parentless orphan abandoned on the desert land of Jakku, without knowledge of the living Force that resided within her? It both enraged and confounded Rey with each passing frame that led her deeper into the recesses of a forgotten past, towards a supposed former life she couldn’t recall so much as a speckle of living at one time._

How could this be?

_The two constants in the archive of these memories who cropped up and interacted with her on a daily basis were Master Luke and, even more frequently than her Jedi teacher, his apprentice, Ben Solo. Young Rey had evidently taken quite the liking to the gawky but sweet-tempered teenager. Then again, he seemed to carry an undoubtable affection for the endlessly intrigued, rather rambunctious youngster as well, whom, as present Rey would come to perceive through a private conversation between her younger self, Ben and Luke, apparently hailed from the planet of Mandalore._

Mandalore? _Elder Rey gaped in shock at this revelation, rearing back from the casual conversation her younger self was having with her elders over one particular breakfast._ That’s my _home_?

_Rey had heard of said planet, as well as its nefarious, violent chronicles. She couldn’t comprehend how she and her parents had come to reside on such a wasteland. The accompanying faces listening to the girl’s gentle ramblings hinted at knowing more than her on the subject, however._

_“My daddy’s helping to rebuild the capital city,” Rey explained enthusiastically to Ben, a tint of pride emerging from that small but forward voice of hers. She chomped on a spoonful of mushed oats before rambling on, “He’s got such big ideas, Daddy does! All sorts of splendid designs to make the city glow and grow again! Mummy just sort of shakes her head at him and reminds Daddy to ‘think practically’.” Little Rey shook her head at that, but her older self suspected that the innocent girl she was watching, with her messy, three-looped locks she had since donned into adulthood, had no idea what such a phrase meant. “My Daddy always says to never stop dreaming.”_

_“He’s right,” Ben chimed in a moment later, offering Rey a thoughtful glance over._

_Little Rey smiled, encouraged. “Maybe when Mummy and Daddy return you can come visit my home, Ben!” She added in a defensive grumble, “It’s not as bad as some of your students say.”_

_Ben’s face slightly fell. His eyes, heavy and troubled, withdrew to their half-eaten bowl of oats. “Yeah, maybe,” he offered up in a low, restrained mutter, sounding, to young Rey, either unsure or unenthused about her proposal._

_Elder, shrewder Rey knew better than the wee Padawan at breakfast. Ben was painfully aware that Rey’s parents wouldn’t be returning to visit her anytime soon, and yet, both Ben and Master Luke said nothing of that sickening truth. Meditative Rey’s heart sunk. How could they withhold such knowledge from her?_ Easily _, she surmised, the gnawing sadness in her stomach gathering strength._ Who wants to inform a five-year old child that her mother and father have left her for good?

_Oblivious little Rey resumed slurping her breakfast without much delicacy or example of manners. Ben seemed to find her ungraceful chewing tactics amusing, the warm twinkle in his eyes soon resuming. Meditative Rey’s heart fluttered. It was strangely warming to see such light in the young man’s eyes._

_A pensive frown crossed her face as the memory faded into a whirling black pool. There were more recollections that surfaced thereafter: playful, mentor-to-child teachings from Master Luke outside the reconstructed Jedi Temple, where she often bombarded him with endless questions about the Force and the Universe; or flashes of her racing across the island with Ben under the dreamy, late afternoon sun, in which the boy graciously permitted Rey to win; or Rey incessantly giggling at Ben and distracting his concentration when he made to suspend her off the ground whilst standing on his head at the same time._

I have no memory of any of this…

_The dawning of such hard-hitting awareness left Rey increasingly sore, for the memories endeared, softened and comforted her greatly, especially over the once doting boy who had taken her under his wing without necessarily being tasked to do so, going out of his way to make her feel welcomed and at home in those early days, weeks, and months when it was clear that, by way of some of what Rey watched, the other young Padawans weren’t much keen on being her friend._

_Little Rey was too ‘odd’ to most of him, severely lacking in ‘graces’ and ‘poise’. “Screw them,” Ben would dismiss to her heartily, and Rey’s teary-eyed expression would transform from devastation to appreciation. To her peers, she was unwieldy with a lightsaber and blunt with her words, lacking ‘tact’ and ‘decorum’. “They’re just jealous of your skills and intellect, Rey,” Ben would later vindicate over a meal or on a casual stroll across the island, and Rey’s doll-like features would beam with pride. When a few kids snickered at her overly zealous participation in class, Ben would jump in to put a stop to their bullying. If he wasn’t around when something went poorly for Rey, Ben was there afterwards to offer a soothing hug that boosted her spirits._

No… I don’t remember him at all _. A wrestling of guilt and despondence pressed upon Rey’s chest like slabs of stone._

_The scene rotated out of sorts once more, clearing seconds later to another scene long since passed: Rey, now roughly six-years old, scurrying past Master Luke and barely acknowledging his friendly, ‘Hello!’ in passing as she rushed onward against the wind. She was on a mission to somewhere and nothing was going to deter her, not even a casual inquiry from her teacher._

_Abruptly, little Rey came to a halt outside of a stone hut, one that, at a glance, looked remarkably like the present abode she shared with Master Luke and Kylo Ren on the island. Rey cautiously rounded the outside, front teeth pressing down nervously on her bottom lip as she took considerable time mucking about, hoping to spot something; or, perhaps, some_ one _._

Ben… _Elder Rey stared on, perplexed, a mere observer to this new memory. She could feel its thickness sinking into her bones, and she didn’t like the ill sensation its presence awakened. Her younger self shouldn’t have been so anxious about approaching the gangly teen, for Ben wasn’t the mean-spirited type to whom one cowered in fear; his counterpart—Kylo Ren—maybe so, but not his sweet-tempered younger self._

_Yet, it would appear that much had changed in the year Rey had spent on Ahch-To. A certain Darkness hung in the air now, its cadence dense and uncomfortable and putting both young and elder Rey on pins and needles. In recent months, Ben had apparently grown moodier, testier, and not only towards Rey but to all._

_Today, little Rey was openly displaying her apprehensions about how he might react to her, and those trepidations began flooding her elder self’s mind as she watched the scene unfold. Ben’s fickle temper was becoming a regular problem for the Academy, not the least of which Master Luke. He now supposedly had everyone on tenterhooks. That wasn’t enough to convince Rey not to seek him out, however._

_For reasons unknown, it was dire that she speak to Ben and, before long, that reason began formulating before meditative Rey’s eyes: he had been overly snippy with her during her levitation lesson earlier in the day, and she wished to get to the bottom of what she might have said or done to trigger the boy’s anger._ _Was he infuriated because she couldn’t maintain her concentration long enough to stack the pebbles higher than eight?_ Eight is the most I’ve stacked yet! It’s more than any of the others in my class can do! _Rey moped, pouting as she chanced a couple steps forward in the uneven grass._ Why was he so mad?

_Little Rey stretched onto her tiptoes to peek inside a circular-carved window. Ben’s bedroom was vacant save for an unmade bed, a few books, and some empty parchment and pens scattered across the dirt floor. He shared this hut with two other teenage Padawans, Trystan and Ajax, but Rey didn’t scout any trace of them either. His roommates would be off at lightsaber training at this hour anyhow, so Rey slunk down to her regular height and recommenced circling the perimeter._

_Rey knew that this was her friend’s free hour, for she had come to learn most of the variously aged Padawans’ schedules, though she had memorised Ben’s like the back of her hand, probably because he was the first—and one of the remaining few—to have continuously shown her kindness since her arrival on Ahch-To. Somehow, the closeness of their relationship had been strained, and Rey was concerned for the boy who had so quickly become her nearest and dearest._

‘Boy’? _Elder Rey suddenly started alongside her younger self, for they, at last, stumbled upon Ben. Little Rey halted in the grass and held her breath. The ‘boy’ crouched beneath the shade of the hut’s shadowy outline a few feet away didn’t appear all that awkward, lanky, or even young anymore. To be sure, he was as staggeringly tall as ever, even whilst reclining against the uneven stones, with his knees propped up against his wide chest. He seemed to have shot up another foot or two in height, his broad shoulders and long legs stockier than a year ago. His head was lowered, making small Rey uncertain if the boy—nay, young man of now sixteen or seventeen-years—was meditating or simply sitting quietly with his thoughts. That uneasy negative energy, too, was present, curtaining Ben like an oppressive dark cloud._

_Rey waited another moment but when he didn’t acknowledge her, she sucked in a breath and whispered timidly, “Hi, Ben.”_

_Ben jerked his head sideways._ Yes _, Rey shuddered, and not at all with relief,_ Ben isn’t a boy any longer. _Young Rey’s half smile vanished at the aggressive scowl and slits for eyes she received in greeting; that dangerous glare of his mirrored the same incensed look from earlier that day during her lesson._

_“What do you want, Rey?” Ben ground out between his teeth, and meditative Rey realised that his voice had turned an octave deeper as well._

“ _Um… Can I join you?”_

“ _No,” he came down harshly on her when Rey tried to take a step closer to him._

“ _But I just want to—”_

“ _I want to be alone, Rey.”_

_Rey hesitated where she stood. “I… I just have a question, Ben—”_

“ _Save it, would you?” he bit back. Little Rey recoiled, as if she had been struck across the face. Her reaction wasn’t unnecessary, however, for Ben’s volatile energy lashed out at the same time as his acerbic tongue was unleashed._

“ _Why are you so angry with me?” She despised how unsteady and feeble her voice sounded but couldn’t keep the emotional injury suppressed. “Please tell me what I’ve done, Ben… Please?”_

_Ben maintained his loathsome scowl. He raked a trembling hand through his hair, which the six-year old thought odd, for it wasn’t like Ben to appear so out of sorts. His side-braid drifted off of his shoulder, fighting the ocean breeze, but his peeved stare remained. “It’s not you, Rey,” he eventually issued in a long, drawn out sigh. “I just… I just want to be alone right now, all right? Just…leave me alone.”_

_Rey’s face soured, dissatisfied with her friend’s somewhat clipped response. “But today…at my lesson…”_

“ _You were distracted. It became frustrating for me.” A muscle in Ben’s left cheek clenched. His dark brown eyes, too, seemed to have gone a touch darker. The red rims around them, which had started turning up in recent weeks, were also markedly more pronounced on this day._

 _Rey fidgeted with her small hands, her eyes glued to the cross young man whom she had come to regard as family. “But your anger, Ben… I don’t understand. Something_ is _wrong. Won’t you tell me what it is?”_

“ _Rey—”_

“ _Maybe I can help?”_

“Everyone gets angry, all right _?” Like a switchblade, his tone turned highly vexed and irritated. This time, when his expression met Rey’s, the result actually alarmed her. “_ What I’m going through right now is none of your business _!_ You got that _?”_

“ _But, Ben—” she pleaded but was swiftly cut off._

“YOU CAN’T HELP ME _!”_

_Rey’s lower lip trembled. She drew back, feeling defeated and lost. “I’m sorry, Ben. I just… I just wanted…”_

“ _GO BOTHER SOMEONE ELSE!” Ben shot to his feet, breaking from the ground like a formerly caged beast. Rey jolted backward once more, fearful for the first time since she had laid eyes upon Ben Solo. “I’M SICK TO DEATH OF YOU FOLLOWING ME AROUND, GIVING ME NO ROOM TO MYSELF! I DON’T_ WANT _YOU WITH ME, REY! I DON’T_ WANT _YOU AROUND ME!”_

“ _You – You don’t?” the distraught little girl whimpered, wide eyes erupting with tears._

“ _NO, I DON’T!” he barked and threw his hands up in the air. “GET OUT OF HERE! GO!_ LEAVE ME ALONE _!”_

_With that, a charged Ben stormed off in the opposite direction, his energy crackling and sparking the atmosphere. He tore away from the security of the hut, away from the snivelling child who had come to him begging for answers…and love. Sensing the revulsion and hatred that practically radiated off of him, Rey hadn’t the heart to follow him. She doddered towards her own hut at the other end of the top of the hill, rattled and confused and utterly shattered. The endless supply of tears she shed couldn’t be wiped away or disguised, though she uselessly rubbed at them and tried to stifle her sobs as best she could._

_By the time she reached the hut she shared with two older female Padawans, her cries were vehement and uncontrollable. Rey burst through the front door, not caring about the two annoyed roommates on the floor, who hissed at her for disrupting their meditation session, and retreated to her bedroom which was separated from the main area by a threadbare curtain. A few insistent “Shut it!” exclamations from her roommates would silence Rey’s inconsolable cries, though they were merely smothered into her pillow rather than echoed off of her walls. Eventually, sleep temporarily overtook heartache._

_It was as though elder Rey’s heart had ceased to beat whilst watching that distressing memory come to completion. A long-lost despair in her gut returned, its piercing re-emergence squeezing her heart in two. She didn’t realise, until the memory swirled into something new, that her cheeks had become damp; but the fresh scene that unravelled soon thereafter captured her full attention, allowing no time for reflection on the haunting conflict with her long lost friend._

_Master Luke and Ben were in the midst of a mighty row, each standing at the edge of a steep cliff. The wind thrashed at their hair and robes, causing the two men to shout in order to be heard above the ferocious ocean gusts at the bottom of the cliff. “You’re changed,” exclaimed Master Luke, his perceptive regard underlined by growing concern and distrust. “What’s happened to you, Ben?”_

“ _You should know, shouldn’t you,_ Uncle _?” Ben snarled back, shooting laser beams for eyes at his esteemed uncle, regarding Master Luke like an adversary rather than family. “Isn’t it why my precious parents brought me here, so that you could suck it out of me?”_

 _Master Luke’s scowl lines hardened. “I resent how poorly you speak of them, Ben,_ and _of me. We love you!”_

“ _Like hell you do!” Ben challenged through gritted teeth, and Master Luke’s fair blue irises glimmered with pain. “My parents threw me on you because they wanted nothing to do with me anymore—”_

“ _That isn’t true, Ben!”_

“— _and now_ you _want nothing to do with me either!”_

_Master Luke angled his head. “Why would you think that?”_

_“You think I don’t know?” A most bitter laugh cracked at the back of Ben’s throat, its sound resembling shards of broken glass. “You think I haven’t heard you conversing with your elders about me in the middle of the night? The same elders I’ve begged for guidance from for ages and received no reply?”_

_Master Luke blinked, stunted. “You… You have?”_

_As if realising that he had revealed some gross, damaging secret, Ben doubled-down his glare and glazed over the subject._ “ _You can’t control me and that’s all any of you have ever sought: to suppress my powers; to stomp out my gifts; to use my skillsets against me because they frighten you!”_

“ _That’s Snoke’s rubbish you’re reiterating,” Master Luke warned his nephew and raised his hands protectively in the air, “and you’re ill-advised to listen to someone like_ him _over your own loved ones, Ben.”_

“‘ _Loved ones’?” Ben all but snorted at the Jedi Master. “Our family knows_ nothing _of love! All I’ve ever been taught by those whom I’m meant to look up to is to reject love—reject emotions—when they are essential to our fuckin’ survival!”_

“ _That’s blasphemy, Ben—”_

“ _The Jedi Code rejects love;_ you _reject it; my own parents reject it and do nothing but squabble with each other! They hate me! How do you expect to teach me to live without my Darkness—without that which is a part of_ me _; of who I am—when none of you are even halfway decent examples of human beings capable of love!”_

 _Master Luke was lost for words. He brought his hands together and half reached to his nephew, beseeching him, “Ben, please, listen to me: the Dark Side is_ not _love; it’s heartache and despair. It will devour you; you’ll know nothing but misery if you continue down this path. Please, Ben, turn away from him now while there’s still time! I don’t want to lose you! I_ do _love you—”_

“ _No, I realise now that the Jedi way is_ not _love,” a venomous-sounding Ben declared, his sturdy form still and tense upon the rocks. “Your way is inhumane, Uncle; its censorship and a disgrace against the self.”_

_Master Luke’s eyes turned frantic. “Ben, you’re wrong!”_

“ _And I want no part of it anymore.”_

 _Baffled, and reaching a point of hysteria, Master Luke shouted to Ben, “What of Rey? If not me or your mother or your father then what of_ her _? Does_ she _mean nothing?”_

_Ben’s eyebrows slid together. “Why would you bring her into this?”_

“ _Because I’ve seen how close you two have bonded, Ben! You’ve protected and guided and cared for that girl as I’ve never seen you care for anyone! Is_ that _not love? Is that not what we, as Jedi, are taught to pursue: to help others in need; to balance the Universe; to give to it—and to others—the gift of peace and harmony?”_

_Ben’s dark eyes mulled over those words for only a short time. Then they glistened strangely and not, to Master Luke’s horror, with a change of heart. “No,” he whispered, and his voice barely registered above the violent winds. He took a decisive step back from Master Luke, a step that would define his tragic future. “You’re mistaken, Uncle. You and my mother and my father have blinded me long enough…but now I see.”_

_Master Luke reached out his mechanical hand and it visibly shook. “Ben—”_

“ _I renounce you as my teacher.” Ben levelled his glare, and meditative Rey could have sworn a flicker of rage-filled red tore across the young man’s eyes as he turned his back on the Light. “You’re not my master now. You’re dead to me.”_

_Ben marched off, facing the stormy winds that thrashed at his cloak and ignoring his uncle’s panic-stricken shouts that followed him across the hilltop. His silhouette spun into darkness, sweeping the memory away with it, and all elder Rey could do was helplessly watch another window into her past materialise. What opened up before her next had her jumping backward and gasping for breath, as if she was there. Yet, she had been…one time._

“ _NO!” someone was howling, but his or her violent cries were overrun by the intense, blood-curdling screams reverberating all around little Rey, who had sought shelter behind crumbled rock that was all that remained of the reformed Jedi Temple._

 _The chaos and shouts were too much to take in and sprung Rey’s petite legs into action. She had hovered in the shadows for too long and if she wanted to survive, she would_ have _to move now._

_As she began her delirious race across the mud-infested grounds, her sights half blinded by the pounding rain and cloak of night overhead, someone fell to the ground in front of her, forcing her to halt in her tracks. Her heart bounded into her throat at recognising the person’s bloodless face: her roommate, Priya. The smell of burnt flesh was nauseatingly potent and Rey noted how crisp and blackened it was, the skin melting on account of something that had struck her down and killed her instantly._

_Petrified, Rey sprinted over the deceased girl and kept running. The disintegrated huts that had once been homes, the ruined temple that was nothing now but pulverised rock, and the dead bodies that lay strewn about beneath their ruin—or out in the open—blurred with rain. Little Rey was grateful for that; she didn’t want to stumble across another recognisable lifeless face._

_Fire and lightsabers had been flurrying in the night, spinning like torches intent to overrun the Darkness; but they were disintegrating rapidly one by one. One saber was a fiery crimson and burnt brighter than the flames, others blue, like Rey’s, that fought against it and, one after the next, lost._

_Rey ducked and crawled to avoid being struck. Who was this faceless heathen; this blood-thirsty monster who had singlehandedly demolished everything that Master Luke had worked so hard to rebuild?_

Where _is_ Master Luke _? Rey considered with worry when, moments later, something much larger and heavier clashed with her, sending Rey head first into the mud. She yelped, finding herself pinned beneath the weight of her collider._

 _The deadly sound of a saber whooshing past her ear made Rey freeze from trying to free herself. There was another awful cry—this one male—and then whoever was on top of the little girl went motionless, their dead body shoving her farther into the wet earth. Soggy footsteps carried on, soon drowned out by the rain, and Rey waited several heart-pounding moments before ably convincing herself to seek freedom. If she remained trapped beneath this perished soul, she risked getting stuck in all the thickening mud and debris._ _Forever._

_It took about a minute to scramble her way free, but once Rey had successfully heaved herself out from underneath whomever had been robbed of life on top of her, a scream escaped her before she could stomp her terror into silence. The deceased was one of Ben’s roommates, Ajax, and the poor boy hadn’t stood a chance against the saber that had so recklessly plunged straight through his heart, leaving a murderous, blood-stained hole on the left side of his chest._

_Rey scurried backward, unable to find her footing in order to stand. Where was Master Luke? Why wasn’t he putting a stop to this nonsensical brutality?_

_Suddenly, Rey was weightless, being yanked to her feet by whomever had snatched her by the arm. Their clutch was too tight and Rey winced in pain. She whirled around to face this person, craning her neck and squinting to search out the face of her saviour. Instead, she let out another hair-raising shriek that had the capacity to shake the ground beneath her feet._

_It was Ben Solo, only he no longer resembled the dear boy who had come to mean so much to her. His eyes were stark and sunken in, soulless and devoid of warmth; of life. The red rims surrounding them made him look utterly maddening in the mist, along with the splatters of blood that dripped down his face and added to the horror. The_ _side braid normally worn to mark that of a Padawan had been severed off at the tip, probably by the blade of the man’s new saber. That, too, was no longer as it should have been, for it was now cross-guarded in shape, its construction unlike any Rey had ever seen or studied; but she knew it wasn’t the trademark of a Jedi. Rather, its plasma blades burnt a furious red, unveiling the cause for death and destruction that stretched as far as Rey’s eyes could see._

_Rey tried to wrench herself free, but Ben’s grasp was unshakable. She screamed again at the top of her lungs, and it terrified her more that Ben only continued to stare down at her, as if he wasn’t really seeing her at all, rather than engaging in combat._

“ _What have you done, Ben?” she wailed, her voice—and heart—fracturing like already fragile splinters of wood. “The Temple! Your friends! Why, Ben? WHY?”_

_Ben only stared without blinking. Then he made a brazen decision and dragged her forward against her will, pushing through the downpour, past rocks and over numerous bodies. Rey dug her heels into the mud to try to prevent them from going any farther, but her strength was simply no match for his and quickly gave out._

“ _Stop!” she pleaded, her pleas quickly reaching the point of delirium. “STOP! Ben, no! STOP NOW!”_

_He wouldn’t listen; either that or he couldn’t hear her. His focus was straight and narrow, unyielding to her adverse efforts to sidestep his goal. It took Rey being lugged across the hilltop to the other side and up a short, slippery slope for the girl to understand where they were headed: towards a small unoccupied shuttle. All sorts of flying equipment and ships were stored on this part of the island, normally reserved for training purposes; but not tonight._

_Rey panicked and pinched Ben’s wrist. He didn’t so much as flinch. “LET ME GO!” she shrieked wildly and began using whatever physical means she could to pry his hand from her arm. “LET GO OF ME, BEN! PLEASE! STOP!”_

“Stop this, Ben _,” came that of another, its register far sterner and more commanding than the little girl’s._

That _finally brandished Ben’s attention. He swooped around so fast that Rey was left dizzy on the spot. One of his long arms flew across her chest and, with the other, he brought his red cross-saber dangerously close to her neck. Rey whimpered in fear but was brought up relieved at the sight of Master Luke. She would be rescued. This nightmare would soon end._

_Master Luke stepped forth from the brush and Rey immediately noted his worrisome limp. His trusty droid, Artoo, was at his side and communicated to Rey not to move. Her teacher removed his wet hood and Rey was rattled by the deep lashes etched across his cheeks and neck that shouldn’t be there, as well as a severe cut above his left eyebrow. It would appear that he might have tried to fight off Ben from harming the other students and found himself well-matched by the raging sixteen-year old; or…something else had gone awry. His robes were muddied and torn in spots and his mechanical hand was barely still in place. It weakly grasped his lightsaber that was drawn but not activated._

“ _It’s over Ben,” he stated, sounding fatigued and defeated; it knocked the wind out of Rey’s lungs to hear such hopelessness coming from someone she so admired. “You’ve done your worst. Let Rey go.”_

“ _No!” Ben growled, his arm curling tighter around her tiny frame._

“ _You’ve done all you possibly could, Ben… You’ve destroyed the temple!”_

_Ben argued, voice trembling, “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to!”_

“ _And you’ve spilt enough blood! Please…I’m begging you, let her go. Give her a chance.”_

“NO _!”_

_Master Luke made brief eye contact with Rey, and she was only slightly alleviated by the reformed collectedness that lay behind an otherwise tired, blank expression. He started another step forward and Rey was abruptly lifted into the air, with a hand that had only ever touched her before in kindness and love coiling around her vocal cords like a snake’s tail. She writhed and gasped for breath, clasping onto Ben’s hand to tug his fingers back._

“ _Don’t come any closer! You let me take her away from this place—away from everything that’s happened here—and I’ll provide her that chance!” Ben bartered, the Darkness twisting and poking against the precipice of Rey’s innocent, traumatised mind. “Come any closer—or try any stupid mind manoeuvres of yours—and I’ll squeeze what little life’s left out of her!”_

_Somehow, despite the atrocity of the situation, meditative Rey sensed the underlying lie that betrayed Ben’s words. Those were Snoke’s promises, not his. She couldn’t be sure if Master Luke, in that moment, was convinced, however, particularly as he watched little Rey teeter on the edge of consciousness, her vision coming and going as she fought to make out her potential saviour and Artoo against the fierce rain._

_Master Luke’s eyes darted back and forth between the helpless girl and his unhinged nephew and evidently concluded that Ben might very well make good on his threat. He reluctantly stepped backward, indicating wordlessly that he would comply, and Ben relinquished his hold. He placed Rey back on the ground but she collapsed against him, wheezing and nursing her sore throat. She no longer had the fighting ability to take on her captor and, thus, was easily shoved onto the shuttle and strapped into the co-piloting seat moments later by a fast-acting Ben._

_Seconds thereafter, the shuttle roared to life and took off into the sky, providing Rey only a short, parting glimpse of Master Luke on the ground. She had never seen him overcome but, on this night, he fell to his knees in a heap of anguish and cried. He made a desperate reach for Ben’s and Rey’s shuttle, arm trembling as it outstretched itself to them in parting. She thought she heard him cry out as they stole away into the night but the memory then cruelly faded, and meditative Rey was suddenly thrust out of the past and into the present without a moment’s pause to gather her thoughts._

_Rey wasn’t aware of her heavy breathing or shaken expression when she came to. Master Luke was solemn and quiet before her, awaiting his apprentice’s response to what she had been overloaded with in a matter of minutes; but Rey could hardly grasp at words, let alone form opinions._

_“How…?” she started and stopped herself, requiring more time to find her voice; it was quivery and slight once she tried again to speak. “Did you know…what he would do?”_

“ _No,” Master Luke answered and Rey perceived his genuineness about the tribulations that ultimately befell his nephew. “My predecessors had their misgivings about Ben back then. It was a sensitive point of contention during our many late night conversations but…I refused to give up on him. I_ couldn’t _give up on my own nephew; my own bloodline.”_

_Rey’s eyes fell to the floor, pained by the remembrance of such happy memories she had once shared with Ben. The pangs were sharp, like a blotched wound being split open to bleed anew. “What became of me after that night?”_

“ _I don’t entirely know… Ben would.”_

_Rey’s attention came back to Master Luke, still seeking. “Did you look for me?”_

“ _For a time, yes, until word had incorrectly reached me that you had been killed.”_

_Rey’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You thought I’d died?”_

_Master Luke nodded, his remorse transmitted by a burdensome sigh. “_ _Yes… I thought it was Ben who’d done it in the end. I should have kept up the search; I should have pushed on and looked for you despite what I’d received but… My hopes—my dreams for the future of the Jedi and for Ben and for you—were expelled that night. When I heard you were gone and that Ben had joined the First Order, I… I lost all hope. I gave up. I… I’m sorry, Rey.”_

 _At once, Rey took the old man by the hand. “It’s not your fault, Master. I’m sorry, too.” Her troubled mind turned to Kylo Ren—_ Ben… _—likely lagging about somewhere outside the hut and the concentrated lines along her forehead stiffened. “Did he wipe my memories?”_

_Master Luke shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps, out of guilt, and after what you’d seen him do, he might have.”_

_Rey needed more answers. Despite the possibility of a splitting headache, Rey slipped her hand out of Master Luke’s, rose to her feet, and walked out of the hut in search of what she hoped would be some form of resolution._

_Darkness was falling fast—the sky was now a vibrant purple and starting to turn black—and Rey knew that if she wanted to find Kylo Ren_ (Ben…) _, she would have to make a speedy chase of her search. She scouted the landscape, squinting for any signs of that tall, broody silhouette on the horizon. Luckily, she didn’t have to scan the area for long. Ben was standing at the hilltop’s edge, his gaze directed towards the ocean. His onyx robes swirled and he repeatedly tugged on them in a vain attempt to ward off the cold. The temperature was dropping rapidly, so Rey wasted no time in approaching him._

_Rey allowed her Light to make its presence known well before her quiet footsteps would. He didn’t turn his head to acknowledge her, but Rey suspected that he was aware of her sudden company. Finding that his negative energy was passive, she chanced stalking closer, until she was standing right alongside him and, too, facing the ocean. He had removed his mask, allowing her the privilege of his profile. She followed his straightforward stare towards the crashing waves, preferring their companionship, at first, to that of her cryptic companion._

_Rey didn’t know what to say, really, for she hadn’t exactly planned out how she would confront him about all she had unearthed. She didn’t necessarily_ want _to be combative with him either._

Not anymore.

_Rey gazed at the ocean for some time, neither she nor Ben conversing but, at the same time, not causing havoc or grief to one another’s personal space. It was a welcoming improvement to their previous, far more prickly encounters._

_Then Ben punctured the silence with a soft-spoken question, “Did he show you?”_

_Rey turned to him, but Ben’s attention remained forward and unchanged. “Yes.”_

“ _What…?” Ben rephrased his question, his right cheek muscle twitching, uneasy. “Did he show you what became of the temple?”_

“ _He did.”_

“ _And of your peers?”_

“ _Yes…I saw. I saw everything.”_

“ _I see.”_

 _Dark eyelashes turned to the coarse, sandy beach below, but Rey’s sights lingered upon Ben’s profile._ “ _Where did you take me after that night?”_

“ _Jakku,” he replied matter-of-factly, his register somewhat monotone. “I thought Snoke might express an interest in you if he sensed that you were on board. I panicked.”_

Snoke? _Rey questioned in her mind, to which Ben turned his head and nodded._

_“I searched out remote planets that I figured his sensitivies would most likely not penetrate or reach. I chose Jakku.”_

_Rey instinctively leaned closer. Somehow, she sensed that it wasn’t just Snoke whom Ben had tried to protective her from and the realisation hit her like being struck by a meteorite. She chanced another burning question. “What was your original intention with me?”_

_Ben brought his lips together into a tight bind. “To get you as far away from…from me as possible.”_

_Rey cocked her head, her gaze measured and calm. “You wouldn’t have hurt me, Ben.”_

_His gaze hardened at that assumption. “You don’t know that.”_

_“And Snoke—”_

“ _So long as you lived,” he patiently continued, “there remained a chance that Snoke might discover you. If he knew of your Light and of your connection to my uncle, he’d have hunted you down. Master Luke couldn’t protect you, just as he can’t protect you now. I thought I might be able to…give you a chance; a chance that would have been easily forfeited long before now had you’d been left under the protection of my uncle.”_

_Rey’s shoulders tensed. “A chance to disappear.”_

_She was left equally breathless by the openness in Ben’s pale face. “Yes,” he acknowledged through a whisper._

“ _A chance to forget I ever knew you…the Force…any of this life.”_

“ _Yes.”_ _He visibly swallowed. “The intention was always to keep you safe_.”

_Rey frowned and wracked her brain. She had come to an understanding, to be sure, and yet, the truth was souring and dissatisfying now that she held the weight of it in her hands. There were still puzzle pieces that didn’t quite fit the rest._

_Her softened eyes searched Ben’s rather haggard look, their study coming to a dramatic pause. The man was still a murderer and responsible for the deaths of goodness knew how many._ And yet… _As she stood at the edge of the cliff, and after all the turmoil this supposed villainous ‘stranger’ had caused her, Rey could no longer, in good conscious, refer to him by his invented name of preference, ‘Kylo Ren’._

_“Why did you do it?” she blurted out, sudden tears welling in her eyes. “Whatever promises he made to you, Ben, you could have become something else; something far greater than what he fashioned you into.”_

“ _No,” Ben insisted, his rebuttal remarkably gentle and conciliatory. “I had little chance but to become what I was born to be, Rey, and that, in short, is too much for anyone else to bear.”_

_“Ben, no—“_

_“And I understand,” he quietly reasoned; it was the saddest he had ever sounded to her. “I will forever be torn between both sides. I can’t be one and whole without the other…and yet, my Darkness has always been stronger.”_

_“You’re lying, Ben.”_

_He shook his head. “I’m not. The Dark Side has honed and enhanced my powers; it didn’t create them.”_

_Rey’s frown lengthened. “I don’t believe that.”_

“ _No? You should. You have that potential in you, too.”_

 _Rey reared back, unswayed. “Even if I_ do _hold that power inside of me, I couldn’t… I wouldn’t want to…”_

 _Ben’s subsequent smile was faint and, devastingly, all-knowing. “And_ that _is where you and I so greatly differ… You chose the Light, Rey, and you’ll choose it every time.”_

_Flustered, Rey reached out and seized Ben by the wrist. She wasn’t mindful of grasping a condemned man whom, only an hour or so ago, had seemed too vile and untrustworthy to touch. “You could have been saved—”_

“ _Don’t let my uncle fool you with that nonsense. We only have the ability to save ourselves. My path was engraved in me from the time I was a boy. I was influenced by the Dark Side, yes, but I made a choice. My uncle…my parents…_ you _couldn’t have prevented what I became.”_

_“You still have the potential to save yourself, Ben, and I’ll prove it to you!”_

“ _Why? You hardly know me.” He grave a strained sort of chuckle that broke Rey’s heart, for it was the laughter of a man who believed himself doomed. “I’m a murderer, remember? And all I’ve done to you is try to force information out of you and then strike you down—”_

“ _I knew you once.” Rey couldn’t account for where such newfound, unwavering belief in this man was born, but she didn’t fight off the words that poured forth from her lips on that life-changing night beneath the surfacing stars. “You could have killed me that night you destroyed the temple, but you didn’t. You could have disposed of me, left me for dead on the island, or handed me over to your callous master since, but you didn’t. You could have finished your uncle but you let him live. You could have tried to kill me on Starkiller base months ago, but that wasn’t your aim._

“ _You wanted me to remember.” Rey’s eyes brightened with sudden enlightenment, her awareness affirmed by Ben’s subtlety giveaway reaction. “You hoped you’d awaken what was inside of me, and you did._ That _'s the wonderful Ben I know. None of this gross mutation you’ve taken on in his stead; that Snoke moulded for you and has made you believe is your true identity. It never was.”_

“ _Rey—” Ben seemed to warn, backing away, but Rey wouldn’t give in. It hadn’t occurred to her yet that he had begun addressing her by her name, as though no time had lapsed; no stolen memories entrapping them._

“ _You’re a Solo. You have a family and a past and a name that is wholly and truly yours, Ben. You’re no Vader.” She smiled through the tears that watered her now adoring eyes. “You’re Ben…and I don’t believe you’ve ever been told that that was enough, but it_ is _._ It’s enough, Ben _.”_

_A glimmer of emotion trickled across Ben’s eyes, a gleam long since past but not forgotten. Was it hope? Was it peace? Rey wasn’t sure, but she hoped it struck a chord in him._

“ _You’ll never be Snoke’s, no matter how much you fight for it.” Rey surveyed him thoughtfully. “That’s why you’re here.”_

_Silence settled. Eventually, both grew cognitive of Rey’s fingers still latched around Ben’s wrist, so she awkwardly detached her hand and stepped back, momentarily distracted by her action; but Ben’s now exposed expression couldn’t conceal what she sensed of his true nature._

_Rey softly confessed, as she eased back from the cliff’s jagged rim, “I… I’m glad you’re back.” She forced her eyes to turn from him but they were recaptured by what he casually disclosed next._

“ _Kai and Freja.” When Rey fully turned, so did Ben. “That was your parents’ names,” he offered forth without scruple. “Your father was a spy for the Resistance. That’s why you lived on Mandalore; your father was assigned there to oversee surveillance of the First Order’s business dealings and illegal transactions.”_

 _Rey made to squash the unexpected knot forming at the back of her throat. “And my mother?”_ _she pressed._

_Ben’s jaw clenched. “She didn’t know.”_

_Rey lowered her head. “And what became of them?”_

_Ben, too, was tentative but answered, “They died…about six months after you arrived on Ahch-To. From what I remember, your father’s guise was compromised by a betrayer to the Resistance. I was with my uncle when he received the news. I’m sorry.”_

_Hours ago, Rey never would have expected an apology, let alone for them to be carrying on such personal exchanges as this. Yet, it felt real and raw and without agenda. Rey smiled through the tears, this time appreciative of Ben’s information. “Thank you,” she replied in kind._

_Ben bowed his head and resumed his sombre gaze of the sea. Rey lingered a moment longer, wondering if he might join her in walking back to the hut, but the frigid air proved too agonising for her to wait and find out. She headed back to the sleep-inducing warmth of the hut, arms wrapped protectively around herself along the journey, and breathed a sigh of acceptance once she stepped inside._

_There was much to digest…and even_ more _about to change._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 14**

_“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark. The real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”_

—Plato

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Deep Space)**

“Easy, Chewie. We don’t want to surprise them just yet.”

Chewie grunted his uneasiness about their dicey situation but eased back on the clutch all the same, bringing the Resistance’s stolen Proclamation cruiser to a much slower speed post-hyperspace. The enemy’s Star base—a dull, silvery moon with no natural light force—was within reach but nearly invisible on their radar; a mere speckle against an endless black vacuum.

Chewie sat back in the pilot’s chair, awaiting Master Luke’s next command. He trusted the Jedi’s guidance indubitably, though, so far, Master Luke had been, rather, fuzzy about the details for their rescue mission. In fact, he had spent the majority of their short route to the Star base in quiet reflection, stroking his wiry, salt and pepper beard on occasion and barely uttering so much as two syllables at a time.

Chewie wasn’t sure how they were going to bypass the Proclamation’s heavy security clearances since Master Luke hadn’t offered forth a solution to that problem. Yet. _That_ was going to become a kink in their plans fairly soon, however, making the angst-ridden Wookie fidget with his paws.

Ultimately, lack of a solid scheme wasn’t new to these seasoned rebels but their objective was concrete, even if their plan of attack was flimsy at best. All Chewie had had to hear from Leia was that Ben, Rey, and the children were in trouble and, in the next instant, he had strapped himself into the pilot’s chair and, without a second’s reconsideration, placed his furry life in the hand’s of an old pal whose mere existence, until more recent years, had been wiped clean from every corner of the galaxy.

He suspected that Han would have thrown a hissy fit with him for involving himself in such a reckless charge, especially when it contained the very real probability of getting his hide shaved off, and yet, Chewie, also, knew that his late co-pilot would have been readily at his side for _all_ of it, despite his reputation for always grumbling at the prospect of helping others. Han had risked everything for Ben in his hour of need and Chewie suspected, if his dear friend had been graced with more years, the so-called heartless smuggler would have done it all again.

The Solo family was in danger and they were Chewie’s kin, too. Thus, Chewie would participate in whatever perilous strategy that awaited them, though he hoped that Han might be with them today. They could use all the saints and angels and ghosts, if such beings existed, on their side.

A familiar hand came ’round to gently squeeze the Wookie’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re with me, Chewie,” Master Luke confessed from behind. “I could really use a friend’s helping hand in all of this after all.”

Chewie offered him a similar expression in his own language. He directed his gaze ahead, ears alert and paws ready to steer. The Wookie’s nerves jumped when a Proclamation guard suddenly clocked in on the airwaves.

“Shuttle No. 4218, identify yourself!”

“Steady, Chewie,” Master Luke insisted when Chewie proceeded to let out a strangled whine.

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Ben’s fast-paced gait fumbled at the top of a flight of stairs that led onto the Second Level. He cursed beneath his mask, irritated by his own damnable, unsteady legs giving out without warning. That resulted in his quick reflexes grabbing the nearest wall to maintain balance.

Despite an unanticipated blunder, he pushed on, making a sharp turn to the right and stalking across the winding corridor to wherever it may lead. It stretched on for what felt like, to him, miles of endless durasteel, but he ignored all of whom he passed—Stormtroopers, various ranking militia, prototypes—his aim narrow and exclusive. He needed to hunt down an astromech droid as soon as possible and hadn’t expected the convoluted expedition that followed since leaving Amidala’s cell in pursuit would take the length of time it was already resulting in.

So far, his desperate search had taken him well across two levels of the Star base, with no ruddy astromech droid in sight. Why was there none available to him when the situation was dire?

Ben would have cursed his rotten luck were there any time to feel badly for himself; but there wasn’t. He rounded another corner and then another, the crooked and unsatisfying pathway he chased seemingly unlimited.

Finally, after what felt like ages, he spotted his desire: a silver and red astromech droid gliding off of an elevator. It was accompanying an officer of no importance to Ben. He marched up to the pair of them, his massive likeness a sea of antagonising black, and demanded, “I need your droid.”

The nameless male officer, with a youthful-looking face and startled eyes, drew back, agitated. “Well, he’s needed on the bridge—”

“I don’t care what your instructions are,” Ben growled through his voice contraption; the menace it produced saw the officer springing backwards to avoid bodily harm. “ _I_ need him now.”

“S – Sir,” the officer consented. He stepped aside so that Ben could step forward onto the elevator without issue.

Ben swirled around and commanded the droid to follow. It obeyed him with a few fickle-sounding beeps. A couple other individuals who had intended to take the elevator to another level as well scurried out of the way, none wishing to share an enclosed space with the nettled, violent-prone commander. It was just as well, for, at this point, Ben would have used the Force choke-hold on any who dared to stand in his path.

Once the elevator doors shut, Ben terminated its descent by pressing the Standby button and crouched down to be at eye level with the seized droid. “I need you to provide me a copy of the map of our Star base, droid. _Now_.” The droid beeped and gave a nervous sway. Ben angled his head, taken aback by its boldness. “Yes, I’m aware that that information is highly classified. Do you know who you’re speaking to, you useless bucket of grease? Now, give it to me before I decide to make metal scraps out of you!”

Several frantic beeps and fidgety twitches later and a small chip spurted out from the centre of the droid’s computer system. Ben swiped it from the prototype’s grasp and shoved it deep inside one of his pockets. “I shall have to wipe your memory of this,” he stated, with some delight in his register, for the droid slid backward to avoid him. “Wouldn’t want you blabbering about this to anyone, would I?”

With the touch of a couple buttons, Ben reprogrammed the droid’s data collection. Then he rose to his full height, Force-opened the elevator doors, and not-so-charmingly ordered the droid to “get lost”. It slipped away along the curvy corridor, bopping rather gratingly as it went.

Ben spared himself only a moment to catch his breath. He now possessed a map for his family’s use. _Something I should’ve gotten to them last time!_ his conscience jarringly chose to tack on to his noted achievement. There had been no concrete plans for Rey’s and the children’s first attempted escape, but this one would have to be more particular and precise, if it was to be pulled off with any success. _Or there will be no getting out of this mess for any of us…_

Not alive, anyway.

With that sobering thought tapping at the back of his distraught mind, Ben swallowed his nerves and forcefully carried on. He pressed the elevator button to take him to his next destination which would be much trickier than retrieving the map had been: recovering Rey’s and Amidala’s lightsabers.

The faintest tap of the Force drew suddenly close to him, its source reaching out from beyond Ben’s peripheral vision. It wasn’t Rey’s or Amidala’s or Astrid’s Light calling to him this time, however, and Ben’s body tensed as the elevator began its smooth descent. _Son of a…! Not_ now _!_

* * *

_Sleep evaded Rey that night, as well as the next several nights in a row. Not that lack of sleep was any sort of shocker to her highly-wired brain; or overly active thoughts. Little rest was the norm, but too much of a buried past to digest, mixed with messy, unresolved feelings for a one complicated Ben Solo were wild and new to the former scavenger’s sketchy sleeping patterns. She could use with a heavy dose of that deeply penetrating hypnosis the fallen Jedi had placed her under a couple nights ago, before her entire world had swung on its axis, leaving her dangling and thirsting for more answers._

_Then again, it was exceptional to Rey that she would even consider allowing the man known as the notorious ‘Kylo Ren’ to perform hypnosis on her again when, only days prior, she wouldn’t have trusted being alone in the same room with him. And none of those former reasons had been invalid on her end._

_Yet, the ‘monster’ was no longer its deranged and senseless counterpart. No, to be sure, he_ was _still that awfully misguided slayer of the fear-mongering First Order—Rey wasn’t kidding herself that a large chunk of Ben’s swapped personality wasn’t in need of being stripped from him like layers of festering, rotted flesh—but the ‘monster’ was something far greater now. He was_ human _, rather. He was someone. Terribly flawed and debased of the promise he once held the potential to become, yes, but that foregone tangibility lingered on, burrowed beneath the rage-filled soldier with the machine-like mentality—and brutality—manifested by another: Snoke._

Ben…

_As Rey had begun pondering obsessively since (and kept herself from sleeping much at night), glimpses of the old Ben Solo had been surfacing more and more so in the past few months: in the marvelled manner with which he regarded her when she summoned Master Luke’s lightsaber on Starkiller base for the first time; how he had tried to lure her into permitting him to teach her rather than fight and potentially slaughter her; how he had spared her life after battling her a second time upon his arrival on Ahch-To; how he had grappled for a mere fraction of her Light, as though he would drown without its luminosity; and how he had spoken to her the other evening, collectedly and without an angle of his own, bestowing her with the information she had wanted for years about her parents and what had become of them._

_Yes, Ben Solo was still in there, enshrouded in Darkness, irrepressible despair, and a maddening sense of barbarity._ Merciful Heavens, does he have his work cut out for him _, Rey thought to herself, overwhelmed at the enormity of the path that lay before him. Yet, she had little doubt that Ben Solo_ could _and_ would _return._

He already is… Slowly…but surely.

_Still, the road to recovery and redemption would be quite the trial and Rey was gathering quickly, and in only a short span of time spent with the man on the island, some obstacles already standing in Ben’s path. Aside from having a mightily eschewed belief system about the ways of the Force, Ben was horribly sick in the head after years of being Snoke’s puppet…which translated to a number of self-afflictions that left Rey, rather, paralysed with how to manage._ _They were ‘coping mechanisms’, as Rey had come to understand through Master Luke when the day following her revelations, Ben refused to tend to the minor injuries he sustained during their first combat training session together. Rey had been nervous to duel Ben a third time, in spite of his much more fluid use of his saber, and she made a point to never let her guard down for a second as they practiced fighting one another, kicking up soil and debris whilst rotating and swerving and ducking to avoid impact._

_Initially, Ben integrated the techniques he, too, had learned as a young Padawan learner but, also, as a reborn man reacquainting himself with the Light side of the Force. Ben, unlike Kylo, was lighter on his feet and fearless with a saber, exercising long strokes and rapid, freeing brandishing of his saber. However, it wasn’t long into their session when Ben was reverting to the hostile, choppier methods he had adopted as a warrior of Darkness. Each move was strategised, yet rough and cutting and merciless. Rey kept pace with Ben’s cutthroat movements but it was a challenge not to acclimate to his less honourable form of fighting, if only to win the fight. She was grateful for Master Luke’s frequent interjections, in which he corrected her footing or swing or stance, thereby reinforcing her mindset on where it needed to be._

_In the end, neither opponent won the battle, and Rey earned a couple of her own scars from their gruelling but competitive match. She and Ben sparred over his stubborn refusal to see to his banged up left leg afterwards. Blood was oozing from an ugly lash left by Rey’s lightsaber, which had singed the fabric straight through to the skin, and yet, even as Ben struggled to walk without a limp and hissed under his breath with every step, he refused Rey’s or Master Luke’s healing interventions._

_‘The Dark Side yields its power through pain,’ Master Luke explained as they watched Ben hobble away to nurse his pride back to its full strength. ‘Only from constant suffering can one recognise their potential.’_

_Well, if_ that _was the cost of gaining power and so-called prestige—refusing others’ aid and letting oneself potentially bleed to death—then joining the Dark Side was ‘bonkers’, in Rey’s humble view. Who would be persuaded to live in a constant state of agony, both physically and mentally? Not her._

Ben…

_Still, these were early days and fresh encounters with the Dark Side for the curiously-driven Padawan, and it would take more than one observance of the Darkness’ craft to come to any level-headed understanding of its debauchery. She had more than a number of questions to pose to Ben on that very subject and hoped he would be open to receiving them…in time._

_One of many hurdles that kept staring Rey down, no matter how much she reflected on the sweet, caring boy from her youth, was the wistful death of Han Solo. The memory was excruciating enough to relive; analysing Han’s killer in the form of his son was much worse. How could Ben bring himself to do something so utterly inhumane and unforgivable? To take a life was deplorable, but murdering one’s own father was incomprehensible to her. No matter what the smuggler might have done in the past to screw up Ben’s life, nothing could account for him being killed._

Why, Ben _? Rey would pose the question, with unrepressed heartache, over and over again in her mind, most often once night fell._ Why did you do it _? Why_?

_At first, Rey couldn’t justify why it haunted her so, aside from how fast she had formed a fatherly attachment to the aged rebel fighter; but with inexplicable feelings for his son, too, surfacing, Rey was determined to seek counsel from the source itself. An answer wouldn’t come to her at the speed of a shooting star, but Rey_ would _piece her puzzle together one by one, along with the twisted paradox that was Ben, beginning the fourth night following the revelations of her past._

_Rey had been curled up on her mattress for several hours, focused on her breathing and trying to empty her weary but active mind when she heard it—_ him _—stirring in the next room over. At first, grumpy and disoriented by the disruption, Rey opened her eyes and groaned. She rolled over in the direction of the noise which was muffled and incoherent. It was coming from Ben’s room—that much was clear—and as Rey listened more intently, it grew more distinct._

_Rey’s spine soon went from curled and relaxed to straight as a column. The noise sounded like…crying_.

_Rey bit her inner cheek. Was she so knackered at this point that she was hallucinating that Kylo Ren—_ No, Ben… _—was weeping behind the meagre curtain that divided their rooms? Surely, she must be_?

Ben…

_Rey slowly eased herself onto her elbow and then onto her hip._ Perhaps…not. _The stifled cries weren’t stopping or subduing. Rey contemplated what to do, if anything. Did he think she was asleep and couldn’t hear him? Did he even care if she_ was _listening in?_

_Although conflicted, Rey made a nail-biting decision and kicked off the two blankets keeping her warm, clinching one to her body like a robe, and tiptoed to the frayed cloth that separated hers and Ben’s rooms. She noiselessly pulled back the curtain to peer inside and was instantly stricken by what she saw: Ben was rocking on the edge of his mattress and pressed against the farthest corner of the wall, hunched forward and entirely coiled in on himself. He had concealed himself well into the shadows, with his knees propped against his heaving chest and his long face hidden behind thick, wavy locks, some of which stuck to his dampened cheeks. He snivelled but didn’t wipe at the tears that poured down his face, only making to suppress his cries by digging his teeth into his bottom lip. If he was drawing blood, Rey wouldn’t have been surprised._

_Then he abruptly smacked the side of his head three or four times, using such volatile force that Rey was sure he was going to give himself a concussion if she didn’t put a stop to it. “_ Ben _!” she exclaimed, shaken by such self-infliction._

_Ben’s sharp eyes met hers, watery and disturbed by her presence; but Rey’s astute senses picked up on what lay beyond: the overpowering breath of torment—the waves of fury and self-disgust cloaked in resigned anguish—and thought her knees might give out from their oppressive weight. She staggered into his room, over the top of his mattress, and knelt to his side. She clutched the closest part of him within reach—his wrist—and when he didn’t swipe her hand away, she gently tugged it from his face and cradled it against her thigh. Ben didn’t blink or divert his gaze, only stared, seemingly half-crazed and half in awe._

_“Don’t do that,” she insisted quietly, her voice a touch unsteady but no less effective. Ben blinked, unfollowing, and Rey added, “That’s not how we deal with our problems.”_

_As she suspected, Ben reacted defensively. He swooped his hand out of her clutch and hugged himself tighter still, twisting away from her to stare at the stone wall instead. Her expression was considerate—too sympathetic, really, and Ben was discomforted by it—so he purposely kept his gaze on the slabs of stone, his too large, bent frame clouded by shadow._

_“Leave me alone,” he mumbled. His round ears were flushing red and he was relieved that Rey couldn’t identify his humiliated blush in such darkness._

_Unsurprisingly, Rey didn’t obey that order. “I think you should meditate and try to get some rest…”_

_“_ I _‘ll decide what I need, thank you,” Ben countered through a taut jaw._

_Rey didn’t back down._ _“You’re clearly in pain.” She unmindfully leaned closer. When he still wouldn’t meet her straightforward gaze, she reached out and gripped his shoulder. He shuddered under her touch. “Ben, if you want to turn things around, reverting to old coping mechanisms that only fuel your suffering won’t work.”_

_“You don’t know anything about what I’m going through,” Ben spat between his teeth, but the abnormal tremble in those words betrayed the toughness he tried to show. “Please. Leave.”_

_Rey kept her eyes levelled with his and, once reassured that she still commanded his attention, she slowly hook her head. “You’re not going to push me away again, Ben. Not this time.”_

_She caught the flicker of something that crossed his eyes, glinting beneath the faint moonlight that seeped through his bedroom window, either fright, trepidation, or both; but its brief glimpse, along with Ben’s tears, affirmed for Rey why she was here, why Ben Solo was changed, and why, perhaps, their remarkable paths seemed destined to intertwine._

_“I’m going to help you.”_

_Ben’s eyes flickered, laden with apprehension. “You can’t help me, Rey. I’ve told you—”_

_“You’re right, I can’t do it for you; but I_ can _help you to help yourself.”_

_There was a stiflingly pregnant pause, broken only by Ben’s uneven breaths. Finally, he posed a hard-hitting question to her, his expression riddled with distress and uncertainty, “Why?”_

_Rey wasn’t exactly certain of the answer herself. Yet, she swallowed and settled for squeezing his shoulder, stating rather simply the first answer that came to her, “Because there’s good in you, Ben, and I want you to feel that goodness again in yourself…just as I have. And your mother and father still do."  
_

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

“He was interrogating the child, you say?”

The young officer nodded his head to the exchange of information in play. “Yes, sir. Then he went to the mother’s cell and dragged the girl in with him.”

General Hux cocked his head, eyes alight with chilling intrigue. “Did he elaborate as to why?”

“No, sir.” The rookie officer blushed, embarrassed, before divulging rather reservedly, “Commander Ren was getting more and more agitated with my line of questioning, so – so I took my leave and came straight to you.”

“The Supreme Leader already intends to interrogate the mother. What possible motive could Ren have for overstepping Snoke in this regard?”

It was a rhetorical question intended for the general to deliberate for himself rather than the clueless officer standing by and awaiting with baited breath General Hux’s next orders. After an extended moment of silence, General Hux’s attention returned to the officer, hard-nosed and resolved. “You may resume your post, Arkwright. Inform me at once should Commander Ren—or anyone else—attempt to enter the family’s cells again.”

“Yes, sir!”

Officer Arkwright hurried away, leaving a contemplative, chin-stroking General Hux to formulate his next move. A devilish smirk spread across his lips once his net was ready for casting. “Captain Lascius!” he hollered to his Head of the Stormtroopers; she was Phasma’s worthiest replacement after the First Order’s final defeat at Zygerria and had proven herself an impressive, ruthless machine.

Captain Lascius, dressed in the same distinctive salvaged chromium as her fallen predecessor, stepped forward from her post before a three-dimensional map of her legion’s scattered posts across the galaxy. “Sir?” she inquired, perplexed by the sickening smile the general wore.

“Send your finest trooper-spy below deck. I need someone to keep a close eye on Commander Ren’s next moves.”

“Yes, sir, I can—” The captain abruptly cut herself off, stunted by General Hux’s orders. “Wait, you want us to _spy_ on Commander Ren?”

“Yes, Captain. It would seem our veteran knight is up to something and I intend to get to the bottom of it, preferably _before_ the Supreme Leader arrives.”

“But, sir, what has the commander done to warrant—”

“Leave that to my hierarchy of intelligence, Captain,” General Hux snipped, nettled by such forward questioning. “We don’t want any hiccups from our own, do we? It’s of utmost importance that the Supreme Leader’s visit to Star base go smoothly and without interruptions on our end.”

“I…understand, sir.” Although utterly confused but not wishing to ruffle the beast’s feathers further, Captain Lascius slunk back to her post and dispatched the order to her most capable Stormtrooper on base.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : I haven't really mentioned it before but I figured it's worth noting that you can find me on other social media fronts such as [Twitter](http://twitter.com/crmediagal), [Tumblr](http://crmediagal.tumblr.com/), [Instagram](http://www.instagram.com/crmediagal), and [YouTube](http://www.youtube.com/user/CRMediaGal). Feel free to come say hi or chat or rant with me over _TRoS_ if you wish. **
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 15**

“ _You need to spend time crawling alone through shadows to truly appreciate what it is to stand in the sun.”_

—Shaun Hick

* * *

_Rey eased her dozing daughter into an upright position and placed her carefully against her chest. The baby squirmed a little in her arms but soon resettled herself comfortably, breathing low and deep upon her mother’s neck and not reopening her sleepy eyes, even as Rey proceeded to pat her back for several minutes more._

_Rey nuzzled Astrid’s tiny cheek and noted the milk stain running down the side of her mouth. She wiped the remnants away with her thumb and a thoughtful smile, humming as she continued to burp the girl safeguarded in her protective embrace._

_Beside her, her husband snored at the ear-splitting level that he always did, particularly during a first night home from another intense spy mission: as bloody loud as the Millennium Falcon’ s rip-roaring engine itself. It amazed Rey that any of their children—at least, when they were wee ones and required night feeds such as this—could sleep a wink alongside Ben when Rey could barely manage to. She glared at the overgrown lax form laying beside her, presently out cold on his stomach with his bare feet dangling over the edge of the bed, and anticipated that she wouldn’t be returning to a dreamland herself anytime soon._

_Rey had been awake and nursing their third child for a half hour or so, but she rarely minded these sleep-deprived moments. They were precious to her, despite when she was dead tired and running on fumes, for they offered her a heartfelt reminder of all she had struggled for in life: a sense of belonging; a family of her own._

_By some miraculous stroke of luck, for Rey didn’t believe in Fate, she had attained a warm and cosy home life since lonely, isolating early days spent as a scraggy orphan on Jakku’s desert terrain, where she had grappled to survive day to day on her own, without nurturing, parental guidance…or love. Her present existence left the Force sensitive in a constant state of wonderment, for awaking beside a devoted husband and to three healthy children who loved her left the Jedi needing to pinch herself just to ensure that life was real. And it was. It was no longer a wishful fantasy that had lived for longer than she cared to admit in her head; in a dream world beyond the merciless reality._

_Now that Rey had tasted its utter sweetness and completion, she wouldn’t dare let go._ Not ever.

_Ben suddenly twitched in his sleep and mumbled something unintelligible, bringing Rey’s thoughts back to the present. She turned to the slumbering lump of a man next to her, who was mostly hidden beneath a pile of blankets, and reached over to brush a thick curl from his closed eyes. They instantly fluttered open, though only halfway._

“ _Mmm?” he moaned into his pillow, recognising Rey’s touch in the darkness and quickly determining that all was safe and sound. He let his eyes slide shut._

“ _Hey,” Rey whispered, running her fingers tenderly through his locks, “you were dreaming. Nothing bad, I hope?”_

_Ben grumbled what sounded like a ‘No’ and lazily roamed for Rey’s arm. “Astrid go back down?” he asked once his hand found her waistline, feeling reassured and secure._

_Rey smiled. “She’s here, love.”_

_Ben’s eyes lifted once more to soak in what was, to him, always a breath-taking visual: his wife, with all her dishevelled brown hair tumbling down her back, dressed in a beige, see-through nightgown—it’s one sleeve was drooped over a naked shoulder which Ben found sexy as all getup—and angelic child snuggled against her for warmth. He was too fatigued to full-out smile, but the appreciative expression that crossed his weary, dark irises conveyed their regard, no less._

_Although his entire body ached in objection, Ben rose onto an elbow and leaned in to properly kiss Astrid’s forehead. The baby made a small squeak but remained fast asleep. He glanced at Rey, too, and his warm lips inched forward until they were ghosting over top of hers. She pushed back against them, deepening and prolonging the exchange between husband and wife._

_“I love you,” he murmured once their lips parted. It was a sluggish, half muttered declaration but profound. Then Ben reclined into Rey, draped his large arm across both Astrid’s back and her waist, and drifted back to sleep within seconds, snoring as obnoxiously loud as before._

_Rey snorted, amused, and rubbed a hand up and down his back with her free limb. Ben didn’t stir this time. She pressed a light kiss to the top of his head as well, her lips curling into a loving smile as she spoke softly into the night air, “We love you, too.”_

_She knew she ought to shimmy out of bed and return Astrid to her crib, but Rey no longer wished to move from this cushy, intimate spot, sandwiched between two of her greatest loves: her husband and child._ No _, she concluded before closing her eyes and praying for a little bit of rest,_ I’m never letting go.

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Rey stroked the back of her daughter’s head, bundling Astrid close to her chest like a possessive Boga fiercely safeguarding her young. The little one had cried so hard that she eventually tuckered herself out, succumbing to exhaustion in Rey’s arms; but Rey’s nerves weren’t at all appeased or calmed. She had been on tenterhooks ever since learning of Astrid’s mental turmoil at the hands of Snoke. Astrid had been too worked up to explain to her the horrors that had transpired, but she didn’t necessarily have to provide those details. The putrid assumptions that formulated in Rey’s mind were nauseating enough.

How had she allowed this to happen? How could she not have prevented it somehow? _After everything you knew that Ben went through as a boy, how could you let it happen to Astrid?_ _Your own daughter!_ _How could you?_ she berated herself over and over again in her confined cell, arms unconsciously coiling tighter around her daughter whilst the minutes ticked by at a lead-footed pace.

There was no doubt that Snoke was out of hers and Ben’s league. It had always been so, for his terrifying abilities in the ways of the Dark Side were unparalleled and grotesque. Rey had discovered the lengths to the maniac’s debased mental and physical skills during the last war, when the restoring of peace to the galaxy finally seemed attainable. It had taken both Rey and Ben to ultimately take the heathen down; or, so, they had thought they had accomplished.

Sure, it wasn’t the ‘Jedi way’, with the aim to seek and destroy, but he _had_ to be stopped. There would be no peace for either her or Ben—or the rest of humanity, for that matter—if Snoke was granted leniency. They had been so close to achieving their end. In fact, they had thought he _had_ perished in the Great Fire at the Cave of Evil—Rey was sure of it; well, until she blacked out and couldn’t remember much else—but years later, she and Ben uncovered the truth: they had been horribly mistaken.

Still, Rey argued with her overly zealous conscience, she _should_ have been able to protect her daughter from him. He shouldn’t have been able to access her without Rey or Ben having so much as an inkling of the Sith’s presence. _Especially Ben…_ she considered, shocked and dismayed. She could sense his mirroring guilt and despair, only its waters ran deeper, coarser, than hers.

Rey swallowed hard and shook her head. There was nothing to be gained by blaming themselves; or each other. Now that they were aware of the grave fact that Astrid wasn’t safe—and, perhaps, Amidala, too—they would have to figure out how to outwit Snoke at his own sick game, a feat far more challenging than she wished to acknowledge. The reality petrified her.

_Ami…_

Rey, who had been rocking innocent Astrid back and forth, with increasingly discontented lines mounting across her brow and mouth, ceased moving. She waited a moment before crossing to the wall that adjoined hers and Amidala’s cell and pressed a hand to the cold durasteel barrier. Inhaling a slow, calculated breath, she closed her eyes and focused on centring her spiralling thoughts. Every overactive nerve was pulsating like mad through her body, worry and agitation set to overwhelm her ability to think clearly in a tricky situation. Rey slowed her breathing, wanting to smooth out those crippling anxieties that didn’t wish to be assuaged before reaching out to her eldest in the hopes of receiving a response this time.

Once she felt relatively steady enough to do so, Rey pursued her daughter. _Ami? Ami, it’s me. Please answer. What’s going on? Talk to me._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

“I – I’m terribly sorry, General!” Poe apologised through a slight gasp, eyes widening in shock at the thundering words he heard drop from Finn’s lips. He smacked his partner hard in the shoulder, forcing Finn to face him directly. “ _What the hell’s gotten into you_?” he hissed under his breath and seized him by the elbow.

“Rey’s in trouble and she’s my friend, regardless of how circumstances have changed!” Finn, in turn, shoved Poe back, forcing the pilot to release his grip. Poe stared on, both stunned and enraged, whilst a heated Finn then cast his attention on Leia, glaring the speechless general down a moment too long. “If something’s wrong, I need to know what it is and how I can help.”

Leia took a considerable moment to compose herself, eyes turning from initial shock to stoic reservation. Before she could open her mouth, however, Poe and Finn descended into a snippy, marital tirade that had other officials in the room turning to stare, wide-eyed.

“Show some respect for the General, would you?” Poe demanded through clenched teeth, glaring pleadingly at Finn’s profile.

“ _Oh, would you come off it_?” Finn whipped his head sideways. “Why don’t you stand up for me for once? For _once_? How ’bout for _Rey_?”

Poe let out a strangled laugh. “You just burst in on our boss and accused her son of purposely putting his own wife and children in danger! Do you have any idea how insane you sound right now?”

“ _And what if he has_?” Finn tested, stepping dangerously close to an understated but infuriated Poe. “It’s not exactly like the guy has an outstanding track record of being on the right side!” He turned to Leia once more, his expression turning from hard as stone to somewhat cushioned, though only just. “No offence, General.”

Leia crossed her arms over her chest, but Poe clasped Finn’s shoulders before she could speak up and whirled his partner around to face him. “You’re being a hothead!”

Finn shot his lover an outraged look. “Oh, see, now why do you have to make this personal?”

Poe could no longer contain his exasperation and fired back, “Because you’re embarrassing yourself _and_ me! In the General’s presence!”

“All right, you know what?” Finn pointed a shaky finger at Poe’s chest. “You never were all that supportive of me and I would think by now you could, at least—”

Poe rolled his eyes so hard that Leia was sure that her best pilot was going to lose them in the back of his head. “Oh, _right_ , spare me! You’ve been biased and accusatory about the guy for _years_ and just can’t admit when you’ve got it wrong—”

“ _With all due respect_ ,” Leia, at last, interrupted them, bringing the men’s bickering to a swift, stunted close with her cutting response, “I’ve heard just about enough about my son from the pair of you.”

“Sorry, General,” Poe didn’t hesitate to offer forth immediately. He lowered his gaze to the floor, cheeks flaming red with shame.

Finn, on the other hand, made an awkward shift of his weight from side to side and scanned Leia’s no-nonsense expression before slowly forcing an apology of his own. “I… I’m sorry, too, General.”

Leia kept her stare steady and unyielding upon him, speaking collectedly but with feeling, “You don’t know my son, Captain Finn. You don’t know what he’s gone through or who he _is_ , really. Therefore,” she snapped when he appeared on the verge of interrupting her, “I expect you to leave all assumptions at the door to this station. There will be no further backtalk about my son in _my_ presence.” She took a compelling step closer to Finn, who visibly shrunk at her advance, despite Leia’s considerably shorter stature. “Do we understand each other, Captain?”

“Yes, General,” Finn concurred, though he sounded uncomfortable about agreeing with her.

“Good.” Leia stepped back, satisfied, and relaxed her arms. “Do you require a Leave of Absence from your head post to cool down somewhere; or can I count on you to help with our next airstrike against the Proclamation?”

Finn’s eyes brightened at both suggestions. He adamantly shook his head and straightened his posture. “No, General. My apologies, I – I’m cool now, I swear it! I’m ready to serve, General. _Please_ , I—” His words abruptly halted and he angled his head, confused. “Wait… ‘Airstrike’?”

“I should hope so.” Leia casually drew back with her hands behind her back, her subsequent explanation rather vague and lacking in detail. “We’ll need every able body fighter, whether a Ground Trooper or a pilot, to help take out their main control centre, as well as the Starkiller base that we now finally have in our sights.”

“ _Both_ , General?” Poe blurted out in surprise. He inched forward to stand next to his partner. There had been lots of organising and planning for such a comprehensive strike in the past year, particularly for the enemy’s second Starkiller base, but there had been nothing set in concrete yet—at least, not to _his_ knowledge.

Finn’s face livened with excitement, though it, too, mirrored Poe’s unravelling befuddlement. “You intend to go through with the plans to take them both out at the same time, General?”

“Now that we’ve secured a map to the inter-workings of the Proclamation’s Starkiller base, yes…but I _need_ Ben and Rey for this operation to be a successful strike.”

Both men’s brows furrowed further. “When— _how_ —did you obtain _that_ information, General?” Poe inquired for him and Finn, their mouths falling open.

“One month ago,” Head Major Brance informed the stunned duo, stepping in to aid Leia. Others, who had been standing by as the company’s rapid row unfolded before an audience, resumed their positions, going about their confidential business as if there had been no disruption.

“But… _how_?” Poe stressed, completely baffled by this turn of events. The Resistance had been trying to acquire such a map since Ben Solo first made mention of the enemy’s plans to rebuild a Starkiller base years prior.

“My son,” Leia answered simply. She squared her shoulders and waited, sensing the atmosphere tense as Finn provided a discomforted look and Poe fell silent.

Head Major Brance continued, “We’ve been working closely to develop a few strategies before planning a formal meeting.”

With that, Finn’s coollness snapped. “We’ve no time for meetings! My friend,” he stopped to amend his words, “ _Our_ friendsare out there and in the enemy’s hands! Who knows what they’re already going through! We have to act _now_!”

“And we _will_ ,” Leia stressed, though quieter than Finn. She reached out a hand to squeeze his arm and he ogled her, not following. “You forget, Captain: this is my family; _my life_. We can’t act until we know that they’re safe; that’s why I sent Luke and Chewie on ahead to try to intervene, if they can. We can’t go through with these plans without Ben and Rey here.

“I have no intentions of sitting idly by and letting anything happen to them.” Leia paused, the lines marking her face drawing heavier. “I’ve lost enough for one lifetime, Captain… I’m making every effort to get my family back and in one piece.”

Finn grunted and shifted uneasily. “Erm, yes, of course, General… I – I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t—”

“Of course you didn’t.” Leia’s rather clipped remark was all the cue Finn required to go silent. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, the Major and I have a great deal more to work out before we can get a move on. Poe, we could use your expertise about how to best breach Starkiller’s core. Have a look at that map and tell us what you think.”

Poe nodded eagerly and sprinted to be of service, following Head Major Brance’s lead to the centre of the room where a 3D rendering of their enemy’s secret second base was on display. Finn stepped forward as well, anxious to be of assistance, but Leia lifted her hand into the air and commanded him to stay back.

“Once we have something affirmative, Captain, you’ll be informed.”

“But, General—”

“I understand you’re quite the flyer now?”

Finn blinked, taken aback by Leia’s compliment; or was it complimentary? “I, erm, yes, I suppose so…” He nodded towards his partner feet away, his regard glowing with pride. “Thanks to Poe, I mean.”

Leia acknowledged Finn’s gentler address with a half-smile. “We’ll be counting on those expertise soon enough.”

Finn toughened his stance. “Yes, General.”

Leia started to walk away when something stopped her in her tracks. Although reluctant to engage in any more touchy talk of her son, she turned to Finn anyway and stated, somewhat unwillingly, “Perhaps, when Ben and Rey get back—when this nightmare’s _finally_ over—you might consider just…getting to _know_ him a bit, Captain. If you knew half of what…” A stifling pause later, Leia settled for shaking her head and sighing. “In any case, I’m sure _Rey_ would appreciate it if you’d give Ben a chance. Consider it, Captain.”

Finn watched Leia stalk off, her eyes lowered a fraction, and felt conflicted and abashed over his actions. Poe was right: he _had_ embarrassed himself. (That didn’t mean some of his suspicions surrounding the character and intentions of Ben Solo weren’t unfounded but for Rey’s sake—and to any chance they might have of truly rekindling their fractured friendship—perhaps, he _did_ owe it to her husband to understand him a bit better, as the general had suggested).

Then again, if miracles did occur and that had a prayer of ever happening, Finn declared for himself alone that he would do it for Rey _._ Not for the cad who had, at one time, nearly slaughtered him.

* * *

_Ben stared at the gruesome cut on his hand, though the blistering wound wasn’t all that gnarly to him, and who else besides him cared if he bled, after all? The red, lifesaving liquid sunk into a deep-seated crevice in the middle of his palm but kept dripping down his hand, running the length of his palm and onto the side of his wrist, where it then seeped into the fabric of his clothing and stained the material._

_Ben cared not. He had worn the same black coverings since founding the Knights of Ren; since kneeling before Snoke and declaring his undying loyalty to the Dark Side. Blood couldn’t re-colour Darkness; it wouldn’t blotch out the starkness of his attire nor the blackness that had corrupted his heart, claiming it for as long as he continued to draw breath._

Why the fuck am I still hanging around here, then? _he decried internally, growling mostly at the cut’s inconvenience. He should have been more careful scaling the cliffs with Rey today as part of their training._ But, really, why care? Injuring yourself doesn’t change who you’ve become; it won’t purge you of you are. You’re beyond redemption. You’ve done too much wickedness to turn back.

” _Turn back’?’_

 _Ben spooked in the grass and scrambled onto his hands and knees, hunched low like a fearsome Anooba ready to pounce to its hiding spot. The area was undisturbed and still, dark and illuminated only by the full moon and stars dangling overhead in the night sky._ _He was alone, and yet, he wasn’t._

_That had been the first night that Ben had confessed, if only in his head, that he had turned a corner. Darkness, Snoke, and anguish would no longer bind him. In fact, he was already taking strides in the opposite direction; he simply had been too frightened to acknowledge the perilous path he had chosen._

_Ben ignored the throbbing, stinging sensation in his hand for the moment. After several heart-pounding seconds, all he could discern, aside from his own laboured breaths, was the tranquil crashing of the ocean waves onto the shoreline a steep drop below._

_Perhaps, he had hallucinated a voice._ It wouldn’t be the first time you couldn’t differentiate between dreams and reality. _When he slowly eased into an upright position, however, he heard the voice again, so close, so sinister, and yet, so far removed from his present location._

_‘Why would you turn back? Are you not my dedicated student; a pitiful excuse for a replacement to his grandfather’s thwarted destiny; to whom I’ve devoted my precious time and years of service to seeing that destiny fulfilled?’_

_Ben gulped down the fears prickling the hairs on the back of his neck. ‘Yes, my Master,’ he transmitted to the Supreme Leader, waiting with bated breath for whatever punishment was about to come crashing down upon his head._

_He didn’t understand how Snoke had managed to slip through the cracks in his mind, undetected. He was normally so steadfastly cautious when it came to Snoke’s perusals—to the point of paranoia, really; he hadn’t slept a wink since he was a child—and usually picked up on the Sith’s energy whenever the sly dog wished to eavesdrop on his private musings. The moment he had unintentionally let his guard down, however, it seemed all of his meticulous efforts might suffocate him. Seconds would determine which way his life altered._

‘ _Then what of this ‘turning back’ do you speak of?’ Snoke pried for answers. He may have sounded languid and disinterested, but Ben knew that that was anything but the case. ‘You have much explaining to do, Ren.’_

‘ _I…’_

‘Where have you been _?’ This time his register carried a low snarl that rustled through Ben’s nervous form like the breeze that rippled his hair._

‘ _I’ve been scouting the outer rims for any trace of the girl and Luke Skywalker as ordered, my Master.’_

‘ _And have you found them_ yet _?’_

_Snoke sounded frustrated, which didn’t boast well for Ben, and he suspected that the Supreme Leader would eventually grow tired of this false strategy of his, though that portion, of course, was meant to be ambiguous to his knowledge; but Ben had hoped to hold off any of Snoke’s imminent wrath for as long as he could. Alas, it was never long enough._

‘ _No,’ came his wary answer._

 _A tense moment of silence followed. ‘You disappoint me, Ren. You are a_ repeated _disappointment to me. What am I to do with you?’_

_‘I’m sorry, my Master—’_

_‘Apologies are worthless to me, as are_ you _becoming.’_

_‘I’ve received a new lead and am following up on it at first light,’ Ben blurted out fast. ‘I believed General Hux and Lucien Ren were fully capable of overseeing any First Order business whilst I’m away—’_

‘ _Why should you follow up on any lead ‘at first light’, my sorely dim-witted Apprentice?’_

_Ben swallowed air. Either he was determined to be the lousiest double-crosser in the early stages of this too hazardous game; or Snoke would simply deduct that Kylo Ren was a pathetic but necessary replacement to ensuring the continuation of Darth Vader’s legacy._

_‘You’re right, my Master. I’ll leave straightaway—’_

‘ _I’ve heard this all before, Ren. Tell me something_ useful _, if you want this to work to your advantage.’_

_Ben’s spine stiffened at the clarity strewn in that warning. Thinking fast, he rattled off the first semi-lie that came to mind, ‘I believe Skywalker intends to return to the Resistance soon. I sense he has a renewed will to fight, as well as a new apprentice to succeed him.’_

‘ _The girl?’_

_The scepticism in Snoke’s all-knowing voice unnerved Ben. He hated bringing Rey into this mess, but if Snoke wasn’t already aware of Rey’s direct role in his uncle’s return, he would figure it out on his own soon enough. If Ben didn’t throw the Sith a bone now while he had the chance, he would regret it later when Snoke found out through his own means._

‘ _Yes, my Master. Unless… Have I been mistaken in my perceptions?’_

 _Ben had never been well-suited for playing the part of humility, but at this disastrous point, it couldn’t hurt to try. He awaited Snoke’s response and nearly wondered if the Supreme Leader had chosen to cut ties on their telepathic communication when he hissed into Ben’s head a few moments later, ‘No, but this is not useful to me, Ren. Let’s try this one more time, shall we? Your stupidity will receive no further leniency but this once. What do you intend to_ do _about it?’_

‘ _Hunt them down and destroy them before they can reach the Resistance,’ Ben responded instantly, hoping for some sliver of mercy._

_‘Yes…and the general who oversees our enemy’s every combative move?’_

_The right side of Ben’s mouth twitched. ‘Destroy her, too.’_

_‘She’s your mother.’_

_‘She means nothing to me.’_

‘ _And your uncle?’_

‘ _He means nothing to me either.’_

‘ _And the girl?’_

_Ben chewed the inside of his left cheek. He had a sudden urge to wretch and dug his fingers into the dirt to keep from lurching forward to empty his stomach. ‘She means nothing, Master. She is meaningless, nameless, and she will lament siding with the Light and our enemies.’_

‘ _Then you’d best take care of them, my blood-thirsty Apprentice, and quickly, too. I’m tired of waiting. I’ll be anticipating a different report next time I check in on you.’_

_The slightest tingling of invisible fingers—frigid and old and unwanted—swept across the rims of Ben’s ears and then vanished. Ben unfurled his shoulders and hung his head, exhaling a shuddering breath; but then the excruciating pains began, initiating in his lower back and spreading through the rest of his limbs like an uncontrollable fire. It was fast, furious, and erratic, spinning Ben onto his back and his spine curling in pain. He clamped his fingers deeper into the soil, desperate for something to cling to, but none of it lessened the agony that carried on into the night. He lost track of time, but Snoke was unrelenting in his fury and showcased his heinous disappointment at will._

You can do this, _Ben tried to remind himself as his consciousness slipped._

 _Choosing to deceive the most cunning of Siths would very likely cost him his life—_ However worthless it may be! _—but Ben figured that he had nothing left to loose anymore except himself, and he didn’t hold out much regard for the near lifeless reflection that had been staring back at him for…he wasn’t sure how long. He knew he wasn’t worth saving, but he couldn’t deny or fight the Light’s power any longer. It’s will and want with him was too strong, with no thanks to Rey’s ray of hope, and he was weak._

So, so weak…

_In truth, Ben didn’t believe a word of the rubbish that he might see this maddening plan of his through, but it wasn’t going to discourage him from doing something right for the first time in his wretched life. With any luck, the way forward might prove a brighter path before all was over and done for him._


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 16**

_“She unwrapped herself like a fragile gift, and placed herself in his hands.”_

–Jose Chaves

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

_‘Ami? AMI! ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!’_

Rey raced back and forth within her restricted cell, holding tightly to Astrid bundled in her arms, who had awoken from her short slumber due to her mother’s bumpy pacing and rapid breathing. Rey’s worrying energy ricocheted off of the walls, stressing the intuitive Jedi’s mounting anxieties.

Something was most definitely awry. Rey knew she ought to halt all efforts at reaching her daughter and meditate to calm her nerves, but she couldn’t stop the fretting from uncoiling. A host of horrific conclusions only a panic-driven parent could compose played on repeat in her mind, for it was most unlike Amidala not to respond to her when prompted. _Especially in_ this _situation!_ She would readily take her moody daughter telepathically snipping something unkind to her if the result meant that nothing was, in fact, wrong. _Nothing outside of the mess we’re already in_ , Rey bemoaned their plight. None of her communications were going through, however. Was Ben attempting to reach her, too; or, perhaps, had he done so already? _No…_ she acknowledged to a sharply throbbing heart. _I’d have felt it._

“Mummy, what’s wrong?” Astrid inquired.

At once, Rey ceased pacing to peer into her littlest’s large brown eyes. “Nothing, love,” she fibbed, casting Astrid as reassuring a gaze as a concerned mother could feign. “It – It’s nothing.”

“Are you worried about Ami and Han?”

Rey didn’t have the heart to lie about _that_. “Yes…”

“And Daddy?” Astrid sweetly pressed.

Rey nodded. “Yes, love.”

Astrid pushed out her bottom lip. “Me, too, Mummy. When will we see them?”

“ _Soon_ , sweetheart.”

In truth, Rey had no idea when—or _if_ —that would occur, so she mindlessly stroked her daughter’s long, sweeping curls and stared desperately at the barred durasteel door, wishing it to open of its own accord. It hadn’t budged at any of her Force efforts, though. Even Ben’s masterful skills couldn’t penetrate the enemy’s wards anymore. Their advances in weaponry and barriers in order to keep out their adversaries—or, in this case, keep them contained—had improved astronomically since the days of the First Order.

“When will Daddy be back, Mummy?” Astrid inquired, her small arms snaking tighter around her mother’s neck.

“Shortly, Astrid. He’ll… He’ll be here soon.” Unknowingly to Rey, her voice had begun to quiver under the weight of the many reeling thoughts contaminating her mind, pulling her dangerously closer to that devastated state known as Hopelessness.

Something else was hovering nearby, too, watchful but not engaging. Rey had strong, sickening conjectures as to who it likely was but the figure was acting evasive and purposely tormenting her, drifting in and out of her Force visions like an apparition passing through walls, never distinct or near enough to attack.

“Mummy?” Astrid’s mini, precious voice prodded Rey once more, and she automatically turned her head.

“Yes, love?”

Astrid whimpered softly against her neck, “I want Daddy to come now. I want to go home.”

Rey placed a protective hand against the back of Astrid’s head. “I know, love; I know. We’ll go home _very_ soon, I… I promise. Daddy will be here in a few minutes.”

_‘Mum.’_

Rey jerked and spun at the wall that connected her cell to her eldest daughter’s, causing Astrid to jolt in her arms as well. _‘Ami! Ami, where have you been? What’s going on?’_

_‘Don’t.’_

_‘What? ‘Don’t’_ what _?’_

_‘Mum, listen, stay calm and don’t try to talk to me anymore. You said yourself that it’s not safe. I’m fine.’_

Stricken by Amidala’s vagueness and lack of emotion, anger quickly swooped in to take the spot of motherly distress. _‘Ami, you listen here—’_

 _‘_ No _, I can’t do much more of this,’_ Amidala cut in, speaking at a curiously hurried pace. _‘I just wanted to let you know that I’m all right.’_

Rey tried to get her fluctuating emotions under better restraint but could sense herself losing the battle. _‘What about your brother?’_ she hounded. _‘How’s Han? Is he—?’_

 _‘He’s fine, too.’_ There was a short pause but before Rey could communicate another thought, Amidala pointedly asked her, _‘Have you spoken to Dad?’_

_‘Yes. He’s off to retrieve a map and our lightsabers—’_

_‘He shouldn’t. You shouldn’t have let him go.’_

Rey rattled where she stood, unrest churning the pit of her stomach. _‘We have little choice, Ami! We need both to get us out of here! What are you on about? What’s—?’_

 _‘I told you,_ nothing _!’_ her daughter exclaimed. Then her register went ghostly quiet. _‘Just…trust me, Mum. I don’t know what Dad’s planning, but it’s not going to work. Just…find another way, all right? And cease all communication for now. It’s too risky.’_

 _‘Ami, wait!’_

Rey felt the sever of her daughter disengaging from their communications like a door slamming hard in her face. Her skin broke out in a cold sweat and, ever more terrified, she frantically reached out to Amidala again, uselessly clawing her fingers at the wall that separated her from two of her three children. _‘_

_AMI! Ami, answer me! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?’_

* * *

_“You’re distracted.”_

_“I_ know _that,” Ben spat, grinding his teeth together like a forming knot. He tossed his head in the opposite direction of his (too) observant uncle, avoiding the poised Jedi’s astute stare down. The discomfort and tension between the two clashing men was palpable, as pacifying blues swatted and made to subdue irritated, swarming reds._

_“You should discuss it,” Master Luke started to propose before his words were scathingly cast aside._

_“Over my dead body.”_

_There was a morbid sense of irony to that remark that made Master Luke’s blood run cold. He made to ignore it as much as possible and offered nothing further on Ben’s snapping, attempting to reach him by way of another avenue._

_“Do you wish to reacquaint yourself with the proper ways of the Force or not, Ben? The choice remains your own.”_

_Ben turned a spiteful eye on his former master and scowled openly. “Yes, the choice is mine, and my ‘reacquaintance’ doesn’t involve you being privy to my every private thought.”_

_“This is true, but how are you to regain your footing if you’re not open and forthright with me? Something is obviously troubling you…or I wouldn’t bring it up. It’s distracting our meditation.”_

_“I have my reasons, and you have yours.” Ben unfurled his too large limbs from his rather awkwardly positioned, cross-legged position on top of a rock that was bigger than him (surprisingly so) and made to slide off without snagging his attire. “I’ll go meditate by myself, if it’s too ‘distracting’ for you.”_

_“Oh, quit being such a hot-head,” Rey snorted from somewhere behind him, startling Ben nearly right off his rock. She strolled forward and faced him head on, finding his expression predictably occluded, save for a few distinct lines of vexation that marked his forehead and the corners of his mouth._

_It admittedly felt a bit backwards to Rey to identify this same man in front of her, who had caused so much pain and despair throughout the galaxy, as Ben Solo, galactic prince and son of Rebellion and Resistance heroes, let alone as one of her equals. To address him by any other name than Kylo Ren was proving an intimidating but warranted engagement, and Rey was adjusting rather fast, all things considered._

_The tattered black robes that his Snoke-moulded counterpart was so ominous for had remained for the five or six weeks since his arrival on Ahch-To. Ben still reverted to wearing his mask on occasion, too, particularly during taxing mental exercises that made him emotionally stunted or too uncomfortable to show his face. Rey was coming to understand this exercise, its purpose one of many shields the Dark Side vainly implemented to its advantage: to hide pain and conceal that which it deemed as weakness. Humanness._

_Ben wasn’t donning that despicable mask now, but Rey sensed the underlying escapism that was so anxiously wanting to thrash the fallen Jedi back into poor practices of the past._ _Despite his Knight of Ren clothes and continuous susceptibility towards secrecy, however, a mutual respect for one another was growing, replacing the shelf of fear and aggression previously formulated in their first weeks training together. There was little doubt that Ben considered Rey more trustworthy than his uncle, for starters, but getting him to confide matters deeper than a surface layer had become one of their biggest hurdles to date. The belief in one another’s good intentions was there, but showcasing any shred of vulnerability—most especially for Ben—wasn’t yet easy to access._

_Not that Rey felt she could so swiftly condemn Ben for not opening up to her as she and Master Luke would like. She had her own secrets to bear, after all, and yet, the speck of hope that by helping Ben Solo take the first steps towards absolution, she might, also, let go of some of her own transgressions was prominent and filled Rey with added purpose._

_“Whatever it is,” she pressed him collectedly, with her hands resting on her hips, “you should communicate what’s troubling you, Ben. You need to become comfortable in confiding your feelings amongst those whom you can trust.”_

_“What, like_ you _?” he immediately scoffed._

_Much to his aggravation, the one-time scavenger who had meant ‘nothing’ to him—or so he used to claim—was starting to decode the differences in snarkiness and tone when it came to his clap backs. In terms of their latest meditation, he was impatient with the noted flaw in his inability to move past pain and fully trust again. Having that pointed out to him only attached fuel to his frustrations._

_“My uncle sideline you with that rubbish?” he further provoked, wishing to divert pressure off of himself. His dark eyes flickered in disdain, moving from Rey to Master Luke and back to Rey. Both peered at their third party, put out by his emotional barriers._

_“It’s the Jedi way—”_

_“You can quit quoting yourself, old man,” Ben snarled over him. “I’ve heard enough from you for one lifetime.”_

_With that decisive put down established, Ben held Master Luke’s souring gaze a moment longer and then it was the elder who chose to leave. With a parting, disenchanted sigh, Master Luke slid off of his rock that lay opposite Ben, took his walking stick in hand, and ambled away from his two ogling apprentices, leaving them to their own devices beneath the setting sun._

_It was only once the Jedi Master was out of earshot that Rey hopped onto Master Luke’s rock to take his place. Once situated, she stared Ben down with fresh reproach._

_“At this point, you’re just being annoyingly stubborn in refusing his guidance,” she advised. “You don’t have to accept_ everything _he teaches, Ben, but you_ should _take most of it on board.”_

_Ben cocked his head to the side. A few stray curls brushed across his furrowed brow and softened his otherwise defensive expression. “You don’t know him as I do.”_

_“That may be true…but you’re holding out and that makes no sense if your intentions here really_ are _to retrain yourself to be a Jedi Master.” She narrowed her dubious eyes at him, scanning inquisitively the length of Ben’s strong, long face, startlingly worn for a man of…thirty? Thirty one? Rey didn’t know how old Ben was, only that he was roughly ten years her senior. Yet, he looked alarmingly older than that in years. “Why are you so headstrong when it comes to your uncle? He_ is _trying to help you, you know.”_

_Ben’s gloomy eyes glistened. “You honestly believe that to be true?”_

_Rey reared back, ruffled. “Have I any particular reason_ not _to?”_

_“Search your feelings, Rey.” When her stare became more puzzled, Ben reigned in his temper and sighed. His irises glimmered again, with that same sense of unsettling information undisclosed but then it diminished, much like the sun sinking below the horizon. “We have a history you wouldn’t understand.”_

_“Then try me.” He averted her gaze, however, staring reservedly at the ground instead. “Look, you clearly have trust issues, the two of you, and I think, as a fellow apprentice, I have the right to know why.”_

_Ben thwarted her efforts in the form of a seething snarl. “It’s none of your business.”_

_Rey squared_ _her shoulders. “It_ is _my business since he happens to be_ my _teacher as well.”_

_Ben’s disapproving frown lengthened. “He withheld knowledge of your parents and where you come from. He kept what became of you in your youth a secret, without any valid explanation for doing so. He never came looking for you.”_

_“He thought I was dead, Ben. He assumed that you’d…or Snoke…”_

_“_ I _‘m no excuse for his secrecy,” Ben argued, his disgust on weighty display. “My wrongdoings towards you are my own to bear. But_ him _…” His contempt of a scowl deepened. “Isn’t all of this enough to make you question his motives?”_

 _Rey took considerable pause to contemplate Ben’s question, though without the same level of incense, and an optimistic, sound reply soon followed. “I don’t believe everything Master Luke tells me, no, but I_ do _believe he cares and I have faith in him; or else I wouldn’t be here…and neither would you, Ben.”_

_Ben’s eyes, again, gleamed with certain incitement. “Perhaps, I’m not here on my uncle’s account. Did you ever consider that?”_

_Rey felt her body go numb. His words may have been clouded but she could surmise their veiled meaning; or what she was feeling uneasy about concluding. She tried to disregard the sudden shiver that shot down her spine and kept her voice levelled. “Yes,” she whispered, “I’ve considered it, but I would sincerely hope you came here for_ yourself _, Ben.”_

 _Ben’s dour expression didn’t appease her. “This isn’t about me. Perhaps, it’s not you or me who needs my uncle but he who needs_ you _.”_

_Rey sucked in a breath. She wanted to believe Ben and his intentions, despite the short span of time that had passed, but his rooted prejudice where Master Luke was concerned was unremitting and underscored some of her confidence. “Me?” she settled for questioning in return, awaiting a more in-depth explanation._

_Ben snorted. “You didn’t honestly think he intended to teach you all this Jedi nonsense if it wasn’t intended to be put to some life-threatening test, did you?”_

_“Of course not, I’m not a bleedin’ twat! And it’s_ not _‘Jedi nonsense’, Ben! If that was really how you felt, you’d have stayed away from here, so why have you come back?”_

 _“Don’t try to turn this around on me,” he fired back, shutting himself down from her as much possible. “You know my uncle needs you to defeat Snoke. This is all about_ you _.”_

 _“I… I don’t believe that. I_ know _what this is about.”_

_“Do you really?” he badgered. “Then quit giving him more credit than he deserves and stop denying what you are to him: a means to an end.”_

_Rey’s pretty face twitched in discomfort. “I’m_ not _in denial, Ben. And I don’t believe I’m a ‘means to an end’ either. Master Luke cares about us, and I won’t be facing Snoke alone. He’s assured me of that.”_

_“Of course he has.” To Rey’s growing distress, Ben gave an unhelpful shrug and more dismissive words that shredded her resolve. “Perhaps, his ultimate aim is to leave you to fend off Snoke. Alone. Have you considered it? He has a flighty reputation, as you know. He ran away from his responsibilities before, leaving them to others to sort out, my mother and father included. The loss of the Jedi wasn’t the first fight he fled from and I doubt it will be the last.”_

_Rey’s face flushed with colour. “You’re wrong!”_

_“Am I?” An unsettling smirk twisted the corners of Ben’s lips. Rey could sense his energy toying with hers, phantom fingers grazing the outer recesses of her mind, wanting to penetrate to reach her shrouded consternations. He didn’t exercise force upon her, though…yet. “You suspect it, too,” he deduced moments later, prompting Rey to shift abruptly on her rock._

_“Stop this, Ben.”_

_Unfortunately, Ben wasn’t ready to concede. “What makes you so certain that he won’t abandon you when the time comes?”_

_“That’s enough—”_

_“What? It’s a legitimate concern you should weigh, Rey, and have every right to question him on. You don’t think_ I _‘ve contemplated what he’ll likely do to you?”_

_“I’m shocked you’d spare a considerate thought for my welfare at all,” she huffed, with oozing mockery, to which Ben fell decidedly silent. “Was this your plan all along? To make me doubt Master Luke and side with you?”_

_“Don’t change the subject,” Ben snipped, giving her a measured stare. “You_ should _be thinking about it. He’ll get your hopes up. You’ll need_ my _help as much to defeat Snoke as his, and he’s unreliable. He’s not the legend you revere him to be. I wouldn’t count on him to save my hide in any situation.”_

 _“I would hope that that, too, is why you’re here!” she pushed back, galled and evermore flustered. “I would hope_ you _‘d want to see that bleedin’ monster defeated more than anyone!”_

 _Ben’s upper lip curled back. “I_ do _wish that…”_

 _“Then who gives a damn how invested or not Master Luke is in the cause? He’s preparing me, Ben! He’s preparing_ us _! He’d never—”_

 _“_ He’s a liar and a coward is what he is _!” The miffed, negative reds lying dormant around Ben began to swirl with intent to influence Rey’s passive energy. She safely drew back. “You’ll come to see it in time as I have! I don’t want you to be disappointed, Rey, but he’s brought you into something you won’t be able to outrun or outsmart. And at the precise moment when facing Snoke will be dire, mark my words: he’ll abandon you. Just like he abandoned me.”_

_Rey had had enough. She leapt from her rock to the ground in a flash. From below, she glared up into Ben’s hardened countenance, bright eyes burning with unresolved conflict._

_“Get over your hatred, Ben, and maybe you’ll_ learn _something valuable from him before it’s too late; something that we both can use against Snoke when the time comes! Maybe you’ll be_ better _because of his teachings, unlike in the past! You rejected everything he ever taught you and look where you wound up!” She stalked closer, craning her neck to stare into Ben’s eyes, perceiving how they curtained and protected him. “Maybe instead of fighting your uncle all the time, you’ll work on coming back to yourself and to those who care about you! That’s all your family has ever wanted for you—”_

 _“_ Don’t speak of my family _!” he barked, his voice suddenly strained and unsteady. “_ You know nothing _!”_

_“Well, the way I see it, if you fail this time, you’ll have no one but yourself to blame!”_

_“_ If _I fail,” Ben rebuffed, with mirroring fervour, “it will be in not successfully helping_ you _to defeat Snoke. It has nothing to do with my cursed family! That’s my only value for sticking around this wretched island!”_

_Rey felt the blood drain from her face. “I… I don’t believe that! That’s not it!”_

_Ben’s eyes were disturbingly frigid as he stared down his long nose at her. “Yes, you do.”_

_“Quit speaking for me while you’re at it!” She threw up her hands. “I don’t believe you! I_ know _there’s good in you, Ben! I’ve felt it; your uncle’s felt it; your mother’s felt it, even after what you did to your father—”_

 _“_ I said, don’t speak of them _!” Ben flailed backwards, as if Rey had physically struck him, but Rey was too wound up to yield._

_“Why? You think not admitting to your past transgressions will somehow help you heal? By not facing what you did?”_

_Ben avoided Rey’s all-too-shrewd look over and his voice was quieter than she had ever heard when he said, “I… I can’t go back.”_

_“You’re a deflector_ and _a liar! To yourself most of all!” Rey dug a pointed finger into one of Ben’s bent knees. “Don’t treat your pull back to the Light as some sort of bloody failure! You_ never _wore the Darkness as Snoke desired! You’d_ never _have made him proud! You’re no Darth Vader!”_

 _“Stop it, Rey,” Ben murmured, refusing to look at her_. _His expression was as cold as stone._

 _“You know why? Because he knows as well as_ I _do that that’s_ not _who you really are! You were never bred for Darkness. You’d like to think it—Snoke would have you believe that’s your purpose—but you repel it and that bloody paralyses you!”_

 _“_ Enough _,” Ben warned her, his tone still low, yet riled; but Rey wouldn’t relent._

 _“Snoke, Master Luke, me—we all have a better handle on you than you do! So stop fighting your uncle, Ben; stop fighting_ me _! Accept who you are. And admit that you want the Light as badly as I want it for you!”_

_At last, Ben found reason to pause in having the last word. His head tilted towards Rey, no longer in indignation but in stumped intrigue. “You do?”_

_Abashed by her choice of words, Rey silenced her tongue. She was too hyped up and too humiliated to answer back and, in turn, resorted to what had often worked in the past when faced with revelations she would much rather avoid: she ran. It didn’t take long for her speedy gait to morph into a maddening sprint across the top of the hill. She bounded down the other side, disappearing behind thick brush, trees, and walls of lined stone._

_Ben never took his sights off of Rey’s receding silhouette until she vanished from view. He was stunned to the quick. He had received the clarity he had yearned for, and yet, the verdict was somewhat inconvenient: Rey wasn’t, in fact, offering him a helping hand out of some misplaced moral obligation; or, worse, pity, as he had feared might be the case ever since she had discovered him sobbing during the night two weeks prior. That was a relief, and yet…_

She _does_ care. _Ben’s mouth sunk, wishing but unable to disguise the painful awareness that was draining his energy._ And she’s rightfully terrified.

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Ben rushed off the elevator, daunted by the unexpected additional Force presence but nonplussed by the sudden appearance of an overly eager female officer who hastily descended upon him. “Commander Ren!” the young lieutenant squeaked, taking a moment to adjust her stiff, grey suit, before chancing to approach her formidable superior. Ben kept a reserved stance, suspecting what the woman was about to tell him before the words tumbled forth from her mouth. “The general wants you on the bridge immediately! One of our missing cruisers has been picked up by our security shields.”

“What does he expect _me_ to do about it?” Ben grumbled through his mask’s voice contraption, balling his hands into fists at his sides. _The nerve of my uncle…_

The lieutenant swallowed nervously. “I… To inspect it for any potential passengers, sir, I would presume?”

“A few Stormtroopers can surely see to that task, Lieutenant.”

“But, Commander,” the lieutenant started, quite uncomfortable with Ben’s combativeness, “the general’s orders were specifically to—”

“ _I’m quite busy at the moment_.”

“Commander!” interrupted another, this time identifiable to Ben’s ears and, this time, male.

Ben whisked in the direction from whence the voice had come and spotted the notable head Stormtrooper with shiny, black chrome attire and red shoulder pads as he materialised from around a corner. In his hands he carried a heavy rifle blaster of his own design. Like Captain Lascius, he wasn’t a typical Stormtrooper bred and programmed from birth to follow Proclamation commands and protocol. He was free-thinking and impulsive, which was never, in Ben’s opinion, a good combination for their ranks. Hux had hired him, though, so all Ben could do was accept the cad into their cause and try to keep his distance.

Ben eased back a step, cautious and incredulous as he emotionlessly greeted the officer. “Creed.” He shoved his angst-ridden troubles for his family’s safety somewhere deeper inside, where his perceptive competitor, untrained in the Force but more intuitive than most Proclamation buffoons, couldn’t unlock them for questioning.

“I couldn’t help but overhear. My troops and I can accompany you in scouting the cruiser.”

“Why would I have need for your services, Officer?” Ben made to inquire without sounding as suspicious as he felt. “Isn’t searching a cruiser considered beneath your area of expertise?”

“Generally, yes, sir,” said Creed, “but this cruiser has been missing for some time. I’d like to take a closer inspection myself.”

“Do explain.”

“It’s been suggested that it was stolen by the Resistance and used for spy missions. It could very well be carrying passengers on board who may be useful to us.”

Ben bit the inside of his cheek to keep from cursing his, as yet, unannounced uncle and the Wookie out loud. No doubt the impertinent old man—or both he _and_ Ben’s mother—had concocted this rash, mucked up rescue mission without consideration for the dreadful dangers they were putting Ben and his family in. _If I knew any better, I’d say this was my father’s retribution for everything I’d…_

Ben wielded in his racing, damaging thoughts and tried to think quickly. If uncovered, Uncle Luke and Chewie could spell doom for them all. _I don’t have time for this! That’s two more lives now to oversee! This is getting out of hand!_ He stole a breath and replied an even-keeled, “I see. Do we know for certain that it’s carrying rebels?”

“Not yet, Commander. It’s only just about to arrive on the bridge.”

“Very well. I’ll take your theory under consideration and seek your assistance should it be necessary.” He then clipped at the lieutenant, who was standing idly next to Creed, “Have our troops in the vicinity inspect the ship for passengers. I’ll be along shortly to see to their findings.”

“But, Commander—” started Creed, apparently insulted at being so easily dismissed.

“As you were, Officer, Lieutenant,” Ben dispatched them in passing.

Without affording them another moment to contest his orders, Ben swept out of sight, not catching their highly displeased reactions, though he could perceive Creed’s hungry urge to follow him. _I knew it._ Ben sneered brutally beneath his mask. No one could see the emergence of that threatening derision, but the pulsating negative energy reverberating around him scratched, pawing to go on the attack. _Hux, this will be your undoing, so help me. I’ll ensure your end before my own comes._

Ben turned his efforts towards far more urgent matters: searching out any communications being transmitted from above and in the surrounding area, as he stalked down another extensive corridor and then another. He could sense Rey’s energy from afar, though it was fainter than earlier. She seemed to be fighting to remain cool and collected, an unnerving discovery, for he had first taken notice of her unusual lack of control on the elevator whilst waiting for the droid to download the map. It was worsening but the farther he drew away from her cell, the more of a struggle it became to process her feelings. It made his own desperate want to communicate with his wife all the harder to ignore.

Ben curled his gloved fingers tighter into his sweaty palms, shoving each leg in front of the other. He sought Uncle Luke next, who was present but his energy too far off to examine. _Fool!_ A growl erupted at the back of his throat and his saber, secured within its holster at his side, vibrated, with the quaking rise to be utilised. _You’re the last damn assistant I need right now!_

Ben flew past droids and officials in uniform, continuing his private appraisal of the Force, and a dreadful realisation soon hit him in the chest like the stabbing of a knife. Unlike Rey and Uncle Luke, Amidala’s Force trail had gone cold. That, paired with Rey’s mounting distress, brought Ben’s feet to a screeching standstill outside the entrance to Proclamation’s weaponry department, headed by some of the most mighty (and cleverest) droids the enemy had invented in recent years.

 _Ami…_ He couldn’t risk reaching out to his daughter now—not with the slightest possibility that Snoke might intercept such a message whilst in route to the base—and yet, Rey shouldn’t have been attempting communications with her either. How could he fault her, though? Her worries were his own, too. Something was undoubtedly wrong, scaring Rey enough that she was willing to jeopardise their escape by reaching out to their daughter in enemy territory.

Drawing in what he hoped would be a calm-inducing breath, Ben settled for the most cryptic telepathic message he could think of on the fly and shot it off to her at once: _‘Don’t think of doing anything stupid.’_ If the Supreme Leader was listening in, at least, the message was twofold and might be explained away later. _‘You’re to mind yourself and what I’ve said.’_

Ben waited a moment, unrelieved when he received no reply or even a glimmer of his daughter’s Force presence. Unwilling to press his luck, however, he marched on through the three colossal, blaster-proof doors. They swung upward after scanning him for identification. He entered and the doors cruised back to the ground soon after, with a piercing _click_.

Then a detached, demon-like voice, soft but rich, cut through Ben’s conscience like a swinging blade, _‘Nonsense, Ren. Your commands are baseless. All is as it should be; or have you not made certain of it for my arrival?’_

It didn’t matter that Ben was standing in a mostly empty rotunda, surrounded by walls of iron-clad deadbolts and gates for which only certain personnel and droids were permitted access. In an instant, he took a knee, bowing his head pointedly towards the ground. 

_‘Forgive me, Master. I sought to reprimand the eldest offspring for what I suspect to be an uprising. Should she be considering adding more treason against herself and her family, I wanted to ensure that you were—’_

_‘Quiet, Ren,’_ Snoke interjected, showcasing an elusive but commanding air Ben took no consideration in obeying. He swallowed his reservations and waited, his knee pressing hard into the tiled floor. _‘Show restraint, and take no further action. I shall see to the offspring soon enough, as I shall be with you soon. You’re needed on the bridge, I believe?’_

Ben rattled and hastened to stand. _‘Yes, Master.’_

_‘Then you’d best be off, shouldn’t you? What is your delay?’_

_‘Nothing, Master,’_ Ben answered in a rush, though he continued to stall where he stood, hoping Snoke would end communication; but he didn’t and Ben felt his heart—and hopes—plunge into his stomach. _‘I’m on my way now.’_

It was excruciating to turn his back and retrace his steps out of their weaponry department and back to the elevator from whence he had come, but with Snoke figuratively breathing down his neck, Ben saw no alternative. He needed to get to his family and, at least, hand off the map to Rey before anything else went to shit.

He swallowed thickly as he entered the elevator and pressed the button that would take him up to the bridge, his breathing stifled not by his mask but by a new level of panic and fear.

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

“Sis, what are you doing?”

“Breaking out of here!” Amidala exclaimed over her shoulder. She bolted to the cell door, springing up from the floor like a loth cat, with a sudden burst of energy that startled Han.

The boy observed his sister’s flurry of emotions from afar, utterly befuddled by Amidala’s seesawing demeanour. Moments ago she had been taciturn and still, seated on the ground beside him and not uttering a word. Now, she was impatient and sputtering what sounded like daredevil stupidity. He scrunched up his nose, staring confusedly at the back of Amidala’s head.

“But you heard Dad! We’re supposed to wait ’till—”

“ _He can’t help us now_!”

Amidala whirled around to face Han momentarily. A look of foreboding crossed the boy’s lightly freckled, handsome face that stayed put once his sister turned back to their cell door. To Han, Amidala’s expression was more than just prickly and cautionary, it was incensed and something not to be tolerated by their Jedi parents. He may not have known much about Force sensibilities, but he knew with certainty that Amidala shouldn’t be acting this way.

Taking heed of her emotional state, Han rose to his full height but maintained his distance. “How – How do you know that, Ami?” he prodded her gently. “Did Dad tell you or—?”

“Quit asking questions!” she clamoured without a backward glance. She placed a hand on the durasteel door and closed her eyes, concentrating.

As unperturbed as Han was trying to behave, he blurted out, half laughing, half choking, “Don’t you think if that was possible that Mum and Dad would have tried it by now?”

“ _Han_ ,” ordered Amidala, her tone now rather impassive, as she kept her eyes shut and her hand in place, “ _shut it._ “

An infuriated flush spread across Han’s cheeks. “NO! You know what, Ami? I have every right to know what you’re up to! Dad told us to wait here until he gets back! You can’t just open that door and—”

All of a sudden, the door burst open with a loud _whoosh_ , undamaged, leaving Amidala’s hand raised towards air. Han’s jaw dropped in shock and awe. His sister had managed to decrypt whatever security measures had been keeping them locked inside, and yet, Han understood right well that she shouldn’t have been able to accomplish such a complicated feat.

 _Not if Mum and Dad can’t…_ His widened irises slowly met Amidala’s, his expression switching from wonderment to horror. The boy took a shaky step backward. “Ami,” he whispered, not trusting the sound of his own voice nor the baleful, darker colour that was overtaking his loving sister’s eyes, “wha – what have you done?”

“I’m sorry about this, Han,” came her nebulous, eerily soft reply, and Han caught a flutter of movement at her back. “I _really_ am.”

Han lifted his arms to protect himself but his reflexes weren’t quick enough. “AMI, WAIT! _DON’T_!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : I have been away for a number of personal reasons...but for what it's worth (to the three people, I think, keeping up on this story?), updates will be slower from here on anyhow as we're getting closer to where I am currently in the drafting and writing stages. I won't leave the few readers I have too long, I promise, and I thank you guys for caring enough to review and express interest in these updates. It means the world to little 'ole me. I strive so hard on all of my stories and the reward of a comment or two is really uplifting to this isolating process.**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 17**

_“She wears darkness as a queen wears a crown: proud, confident, beautiful and above all meant only for her.”_

–Sophia Carey

* * *

_Rey heard the faint rustle of footsteps approaching from behind and snapped her head about, taunt shoulders collapsing once she caught sight of who was encroaching on her solitude. “Go away!” she demanded. She defiantly turned her back on her unwanted visitor and snatched a small rock from the pebbled walkway beside her, hurling it into the crashing waves one hundred feet below. Rey’s legs were dangling precariously close to the edge, but the treacherous drop didn’t faze her. It would take a hell of a lot more than a fall to frighten her now._

_The stressed Padawan had been there for hours, meditating, naturally, but also tossing and wrestling with her tireless emotions. Ben Solo was the last person she cared to see in this confounded state. Wasn’t_ he _the blasted reason for why she found herself in this unnecessary conundrum in the first place?_

_“Make me,” he taunted, and the suggestion of a smile was indisputably attached to that instigation._

_Rey could sense him standing directly behind her and clutched at a few more stray rocks scattered in the grass. It was the only self-control exercise stopping her from leaping to her feet, whirling around, and punching Ben in the face. She could practically hear Master Luke shaking a deriding finger at her whilst reiterating that nonsense counsel of, ‘A Jedi never resorts to violence to solve her problems.’_

_“I could,” she replied through a clasped jaw, “but I don’t find it worth my while.”_

_“I think you’re afraid.”_

_“I think_ you _‘re afraid,” Rey countered, infuriated with herself for rising to Ben’s goading with little force._

_“Of what?” There was a pause. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours?”_

_Rey rolled her eyes. “That’s not fair, Ben.”_

_“Why not? I asked you first.”_

_For a moment, the man in question watched the back of Rey’s head, teetering between continuing to hover over her or taking a seat next to the complicated young woman on the ground. Ultimately, he chose to sit, one of his large knees nearly knocking hers as he tried to make room for his oversized limbs. He could tell that she was weighing the pros and cons of his proposal and, thus, awaited her decision._

_They sat in silence for a time, close enough to one another that brushing a hand or bumping a leg would have been excusable. Their energies charged and circled each other, acknowledging one another’s presence but opting for watchful waiting. There was no forceful pressing to speak or to confess what was on their minds, a welcoming change from several turbulent encounters in the past._

_Still, the atmosphere was burdened by a certain unspoken uneasiness that strengthened by the minute. Finally, Rey blinked, unmindfully pulled one of her suspended legs from the side of the cliff to her chest, and took a slow, even breath. “I don’t pity you,” she started and stopped, making note of Ben’s reservations, as his energy coasted closer to hers._

_Her words—defining, yet sincere—seemed to shake him, but Ben made sure not to let it show upon his forcefully blank face. “As you shouldn’t,” he insisted, hardly breathing as he scrutinised Rey’s every facial tick, from the slight, forming creases along her smooth brow to the words taking form in her warm, sympathetic eyes._ _They were too considerate for someone who had been abandoned. Like him._

 _Rey tilted her head, her gaze thoughtful as she, at last, surveyed him. “You_ do _want it, don’t you?”_

_“Yes.” It felt good to be forthright. Ben allowed his upper body to relax a twinge._

_The brisk, to-the-point manner with which he addressed those few questions had Rey somewhat bereft. Yet, she knew it in her heart to be true: Ben Solo_ did _desire redemption. He_ was _the Light, fragmented but not forgotten._

_Rey’s reply caught in her throat but, slowly, she pushed the words out, “Part of this becoming means letting go, Ben…”_

_A smirk etched into the corners of Ben’s mouth, his voice laden with sarcasm when he snarked, “You sound like him.”_

_“I don’t mean to.”_

_“I know.” He sensed her wanting to push, so he reiterated, his register much softer than before, “_ I know _.”_

_Rey, again, regarded Ben closely for a measured while without breaking eye contact. “I want to trust you.”_

_“I understand why you don’t.” He offered the slightest smile that Rey perceived to be mischievous this time. “I wouldn’t trust me either.”_

_“You don’t_ want _me to trust you is what you really mean.”_

_“No, that’s not it.”_

_“Honesty, Ben—”_

_“I just don’t expect anything.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I don’t expect anything from anyone.”_

_Rey’s eyebrows drew together. “But why don’t you—?”_

_“Because I hardly trust myself. It’s all too…raw.”_

_Rey’s eyes glistened. Then they turned away from Ben to consider something else; something he couldn’t grasp from her guarded expression. After a time, they flickered and fell back on him._

_“Why did you turn?” That was a surprising line of question he hadn’t foreseen. “Was it all Snoke’s doing—his manipulation and influence—or is there more to the story I should know?”_

_Ben reared back, feeling slightly off kilter. “Why do you ask?”_

_“You needn’t feel threatened,” she maintained, sensing his energy’s walls rebuilding stone by stone. “I won’t chastise you for how you felt at the time. Your reasons are your own, but how can I fully trust you if I can’t understand where you’re coming from?”_

_Ben’s eyes, already stark in hue, somehow clouded over still. “You won’t like it,” he muttered after a while._

_“I can live with that.”_

_His gaze was firm, unwavering. “Can you?”_

_Rey tried not to let the flutter of fresh nerves blossoming in her stomach show. “Of course I can. I’ve seen the worst of you, Ben. Well, parts of it anyhow… Now I’d like to understand the rest.”_

_There was another uncommitted pause and Rey wasn’t, at first, certain if Ben was going to concede to let her in. It was a tall task she knew she was asking of him, but an important step in establishing a new level of trust._

_Then she felt the Force extend its cautionary fingers towards her, much like a timid, weak-willed handshake. It floated closer, Light and Darkness tussling and fashioning into a misty, murky fog of coexistence. Inches from her, his energy hesitated, awaiting her permission to touch. When she granted it access, it was like unfastening a highly bolted gate and being thrust into a transporter, but the intentions weren’t pushy or brutal. There was a delicacy to it all, like a dance, each step careful and deliberate._

_“You admire her,” came a low, disgruntled hiss to interrupt the fragile moment, his voice tasting of bitterness and ash._

_“Yes.” Rey saw no reason to refute her high regard of the woman in question: Ben’s mother. There was so much brittleness and restlessness surrounding his thoughts of the general, much of which Rey couldn’t (yet) make heads or tails of._

_“She’s a master negotiator.” His words were stiff, and yet, they brimmed with cemented unresolved feelings. “Sickeningly pure of heart. Cold as ice if you wrong her. Like you.” Rey held back a snort. “Gullible and domineering. She means well, but she always bites off more than she can chew.”_

_Rey’s eyebrows angled, Ben’s inner thoughts starting to merge and tangle with her own. Aware of it, she gently pushed back._

_“You think her a fool.” Her voice, soft and unassuming, caught in her throat like a sail flanked by too strong gusts of wind. Ben’s energy backed away, though it held its ground. “Naïve to believe she could save you…and faulty in being unable to recognise her own limitations. You hate and love her so. No…_

_“Her hope and forgiveness pains you most of all. You love her for continuing to care for you but hate yourself, as you do her, knowing that she shouldn’t. Not after…everything.”_

_Ben offered no reply to these intimate revelations, but his energy flinched at Rey’s coaxing for more clarity. Her mouth twisted into a troubled frown before his eyes._

_“You thought you were alone… You thought it was meant to be: a helpless child lost to a deep, dark wilderness where the brush was too thick and the trees too high to get out. You suffocated. A child who would grow to be the monster, left to strangle the best parts of himself in the forest he had been abandoned to…_

_“Yes…abandonment.” She swallowed hard. “She didn’t speak to you about the ‘monster’, as you used to refer to him in those early days.” Rey pressed ever so quietly, “The eerie voices that kept whispering in your ear but you didn’t understand. They were relentless, terrifying, taunting and soft… Soft, like your mother. They encouraged you and never left you feeling wanting—not at first, anyway—but their antagonism scared you. They embraced your gifts, and you yearned more and more for their approval. They didn’t offer it freely. They told you all the things your father couldn’t understand and that frightened your mother…”_

_Rey paused for breath, transfixed but pained. “Once she knew of the monster residing in you, and had known all along that it had been speaking to you, you were so angry with her. You felt betrayed, hurt and damaged beyond repair. You saw nothing but fire when you looked at her. She had never acknowledged its presence; she hadn’t done her duty as a mother to keep it from hounding you so. You were tired, you wanted to rest, but they left you alone with it all the time. All alone, all the time…”_

_Against her better judgment, Rey delved deeper into Ben’s feelings, against the man’s own wrestling response to her inquiries. They wished to repel, to turn and run. A sneer broke out on his otherwise glacial, pallid complexion, and his breathing turned cumbersome and strained._

_“They hid you away. They said it was for your own good, but you knew… Oh, you_ knew _that they were afraid of you—your father could barely look at you—and that terrified you even more. The mother and father whom you thought would save you from the monster seemed so powerless against it. Their weakness infuriated you. How could they be so unhelpful, so weak-willed? So many secrets…”_

_Rey’s tone turned heavy and heartsick, as though her emotions were one with his. “You heard them whisper of you, their voices trembling with fear. It always stemmed from fear. Maybe the monster was inevitable. They’d go for weeks on end without seeing you, and you thought it was because of the terror you brought out in them; that you inflicted upon their lives._

_“Yes, you_ must _be the monster. And you felt trapped inside of yourself, screaming at the top of your lungs but Mum and Dad were nowhere to be found and they knew… Oh, they_ knew _you were scared and suffering, trapped in a silent void where only this ‘thing’ could find you. And it always found you…”_

_Rey despised the hollowness that had found its home in her heart, now causing her eyes to burn. It reminded her of those petrifying still nights on Jakku, waiting—longing—for her own family’s return. The isolation had been overwhelming; the never-ending quietude kept her awake at all hours of the night._

_“It’s so cold and lonely in this desert, empty space,” she murmured. “No one can hear you, only the monster; always the monster…_ _How could Mum and Dad leave? She held you so close and kissed your cheeks endlessly until they were sore; but, in the end, she still left._

_“Were you so tainted, so repulsive and beyond saving, that the only cure was to go live with the monster instead?”_

_Rey’s—Ben’s—thoughts gave a sudden arch, turning caustic and passionate and vengefully purposeful, like the igniting of a flame. “They didn’t love the monster,” Rey spoke over the rage, “so they didn’t love you. Uncle Luke was a last ditch effort to tame the beast inside of you and if they couldn’t love it, you’d become it. You’d catalyse those long-standing fears and be what left them quaking in their boots and shouting at each other in the dead of night; what made your mother weep in dark corners and your father run from what he couldn’t bring himself to face: the son. You. The Monster.”_

_A tearful Rey eased out of Ben’s tortured mind, the last image that spun before her eyes that of a pasty, gawky, teenage Ben Solo, with the same purple, dark circles etched underneath his eyes, his soul haunted and lost. The visible permanent fixtures of daily strife were incidences Rey, in some ways, shared and, finally, she knew it, too. The present Ben seated in front of her was that same empty shell of a wistful boy from years gone by, and each inhale and exhale of air was forced hard through his flared nostrils as he sat perfectly still on the ground, facing her._

_“They keep you up and turning all the time, don’t they?” Her voice trembled. “Your mother… Your father…”_

_This time, there was no shutting down, no shouting at Rey to withhold her tongue. Ben emphasised, with laboured acknowledgement, a short, despondent,”Yes.”_

_His affirmation was so spiritually hefty, yet faint to the ear, that Rey almost missed it. She leaned forward, wishing to reach for him._

_“You don’t hate them.”_

_His mouth hung open a moment before he simply answered,”No.”_

_“And they love you with everything they—”_

_“_ Don’t _,” he warned._

_It was as though they had both been smacked across the face. Ben tore his gaze away from hers, recoiling to shield what little stealth he had left, like a receding wave too far up the shore. Hunched forward, and with his head hung low, Ben began convulsing and rocking back and forth, trying to conceal the pain Rey had plucked from his locked heart; an apparent agony he had spent many, many years stomping into submission._

_Unfortunately, the revelations Rey now had in her possession had Ben lamenting that trust. He was through with this hazardous, emotional tug and pull exercise. He wasn’t aware yet—and neither was Rey—that she had clutched his wrist at some point during the experiment and was still holding tight._

_“You’re afraid and_ that’s okay _, Ben,” Rey tried to reassure him, enlightened by her new understanding, and prepared to speak in a comforting manner she hadn’t used much of when it came to interactions with this convoluted man. “I was afraid for a long time, too. I… I’m still scared most of the time,” she confessed under her breath, “but the purpose gets easier to stomach. If you open up to your uncle, to me, to the reality of your fears, they’ll dwindle. It’s not simple; it’s exhausting and gruelling and will take you to the brink of madness but… It’s worth the struggle, I promise you. Don’t allow your fears to dominate your life anymore. Confront them, Ben. Learn to let them go.”_

_“I…” Ben visibly strove to speak, though with difficulty, and eventually blurted out, “I. Can’t.”_

_“Yes, you can—”_

_“I can’t go back.”_

_Rey unmindfully squeezed his wrist. “You’re still that child. Snoke wants you that way: suffocating, afraid… Always afraid. It’s how he holds control over you, Ben. He uses your fears against you, don’t you see that? You think he doesn’t know how you weep for your father’s soul, worst of all at night when you swear you can spot him in the shadowy corners of your room? You don’t think he isn’t keenly aware of how you mourn your mother and the losses you brought upon her—”_

_“_ Stop _,” he clipped, with such scathing heeding, letting forth a low snarl._

_Rey was not to be swayed. Instead, she spoke with more urgency, “She loves you, Ben. Even after…what happened. She hasn’t given up on you. None of us understood why before but…you’re her son; you’re all she has left. She hasn’t seen Master Luke in so long that she’s spent most of her time believing he’s lost to her; more lost than you._

“ _You’re her only hope, Ben._ You _‘re why she keeps believing in the cause; why she keeps fighting against everything you proclaim to be your salvation. She’ll_ never _give up on you.”_

_“Her gravest mistake!” Ben hissed in return._

_“But isn’t she_ right _?” Rey argued, with feeling. “Won’t you, at the very least, give her that? She knows you better than—”_

_“What does that matter now?” Ben whisked his hand free of Rey’s grasp, every visible line on his face contorted in pain, in mooted anger. “What’s done is done!”_

_“That doesn’t mean you can’t move forward and forgive just as she has.”_ _Rey nodded and breathed quietly, “And as have I.”_

_She chanced a smile when Ben blinked at her in shock. Risking the ramifications, her slender hand made its way to his broad shoulder. Unaccustomed anymore to being touched, Ben noticeably shifted under her gesture of compassion, though he didn’t jerk out of her clutch. It spoke to the underlying human tenderness he had long forgotten, empathy as had been erased by the master who fed him. A mournful shudder escaped his lips and Ben swiftly averted Rey’s dedicated gaze._

_“You’re already forgiven, Ben,” Rey reiterated, determined to reach her friend._ _“You understand? Your mother—”_

_“Well, isn’t she the patron saint of motherhood.” It was a half-prickly, half-crazed laugh but Rey didn’t miss it’s true colours: a son’s cloaked remorse._

_“I won’t ask you to forgive yourself, Ben. I… I’m not sure_ I _could forgive myself, if it was me; but_ do _try to forgive_ them _, won’t you? We all make mistakes. None of us are free of transgression, including me. Don’t let this torturous cycle continue as Snoke would have it. Lack of fear…forgiveness… They’re your way forward.”_

_“You – You don’t understand!” Ben pointed a shaky, accusatory finger at her. Then, as if thinking better of it, he let it drop to his side. That didn’t stop him from sputtering, eyes watery and half-hidden beneath wind swept curls, “Don’t rob me of my hatred! Don’t do it, Rey. It’s all I’ve got left! I am nothing without it!”_

_“It’s not all.” Rey’s hand inadvertently inched from Ben’s shoulder to the back of his neck, bringing their faces nearly forehead to forehead. “There’s_ good _, Ben… So much good. There’s righteousness and purity and_ goodness _in you._

“ _Know peace for yourself, firstly, by offering it to someone else: to your parents. It’s not such a bad thing. Forgive them so that you might, too, heal. Please?”_

 _A lone tear escaped Ben’s eye before he could furiously wipe away its existence. “You said yourself that you wouldn’t expect that of me.” His lips formed a tight but wavering line. “So, why would_ you _forgive me?”_

 _It was one of many ‘Whys’ Ben had taken Rey to task over since his arrival to the island. “Because Han Solo was my friend,” she stated wisely, “and I refuse to believe that he died in vain; I_ won’t _accept that that was all to be made of his life: the completion of your Darkness. He told you that his son was alive and I… I believe that now, Ben.”_

 _Her hand tugged on Ben’s neck, bringing them nose to nose. She could feel his uneven, hot breaths on her cheeks and shoved away the bashful blush surfacing as a result. “Don’t prove them wrong,” she pleaded, “or me. Your father believed in your ability to turn your life around and your mother believes it still…so_ I _‘m choosing to believe in you, too._

_“Forgive them, Ben, and prove it to everyone, but mostly to yourself, that it’s never too late.”_

_Ben and Rey stared at one another in silence, an eternity of birthing stars and planets transpiring in the interlude. Ben was the first to breathe, releasing a quivering shudder that left his entire body shaken and unsteady. His forehead brushed against Rey’s, but she didn’t shy away. His eyes closed but hers—and her conscience—remained wide open._

_“Rey?” he whispered. His voice was hoarse, breathless, as if from overuse._

_Her heart unknowingly skipped a beat at the utterance of her name from his lips. “Yes?”_

_A short pause later and he reminded her, “It’s my turn. Remember?”_

_“Oh!” Rey tried to unburden some of her jitters by chuckling, though it did little to assuage her sudden ball of anxieties. It was then that she noticed that Ben had not only reopened his eyes but his entire face had gone flush. Even his protruding ears had turned a brighter shade of red._

_“Do you…?” He refrained, the lines around his mouth bending and twisting, unsure, before he managed to probe the question that had supposedly been pressing on his mind for some time. “Do you…like me?”_

_Rey shifted backward so fast that she and Ben clonked heads. She cursed in pain and tended to the sore area on her brow._

_“_ What _?” she gasped, with a grimace, staring Ben down as pointedly as she could whilst removing her hand from her likely bruised forehead._

_Ben’s expression was equally disgruntled. “You heard me.”_

_Rey went rigid. The heat on her cheeks was spreading fast to the rest of her body, down her neck, across her chest, and seeping into her fingers and toes._

_“What – What kind of a baseless question is_ that _? What do you mean by, do I ‘like’ you?”_

_Ben’s eyes shimmered with amusement. She hadn’t a clue why he found this funny._

_“It’s just a question. I let you delve into some pretty intimate details of my life. All I’m asking you is how you feel about me?”_

_“Well, I don’t like the question!” she spat before hastening to stand on her feet._

_Much to hers and Ben’s horror, Rey’s ankle rotated in her rather ungraceful attempt to refute him. She stumbled to keep her balance and would have taken a fateful fall over the side of the cliff had Ben not been present to catch her mid-air. She wasn’t sure if she screamed, for it all happened in the blink of an eye, but as speedily as she felt herself spinning, she was hustled upright and standing on solid ground, feet from the cliff’s edge. Enormous, warm hands compressed the width of her arms, too tightly for comfort. She peered up into the stricken face of Ben Solo, agitated and out of sorts. His eyes, like hers, were as large as saucers and he was breathing excitedly._

_With the dawning realisation of what could have turned into quite the disaster, Ben relinquished his grip, though he kept his hands loosely wrapped around her arms. Rey was the first to break the tension once she had regained her voice…and footing._

_“I…” she stammered, hating how her cheeks were burning at this point._

_A suggestive sliver of a smirk materialised on Ben’s face. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then?”_

_The ire within Rey combusted, propelling Ben backward with another impressive jostle of the Padawan’s physical strength. She whisked a piece of dangling hair out of her eyes and growled, eyes flaring with rage, “_ Shove off _!”_

 _Unhinging her further, and purposely so, Ben’s smirk widened. “Then it_ is _a ‘yes’?”_

_“NO! You’re despicable! I should have known you’d try to use my attempts at helping you against me! Forget I even bothered!”_

_“Why are you getting so heated?” Ben waved his arms at his sides and laughed; it was the most genuine laughter Rey had ever heard and the sound ruffled her to her core. “You said it to me moments ago: is that_ really _such a bad thing; to like me?”_

 _“Oh, no, you don’t!” she accused, placing her hands firmly on her hips. “Sorry to disappoint you, you arrogant, disgusting dope, but_ no _!”_

_“If you say so.” Ben’s teasing flair of a bow, as well as the unmistakable, suggestive glee he wore, propelled Rey’s final straw as he turned to leave._

_“Yeah, that’s right!” she huffed, though her tone sounded unusually fickle for her; she despised that, too. “Just – Just go! Walk away! That’s what you do best, isn’t it? You coward!”_

_To add insult to injury, Ben provided her with one last parting glance over his shoulder, his humour markedly no less undone by her words, and strode off at a leisurely pace. Rey kicked uselessly at some dirt at her feet, incensed and turmoiled. She directed her livid sights towards the ocean, finding little comfort in the tumultuous waves that matched her current state of mind._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Ben made an uncharacteristic stagger whilst existing the elevator shaft, cursing under his breath as he stepped onto the main level. He reached out a hand sideways just in time to latch onto the nearest wall, needing a moment to steady his rickety balance.

“Sir?” a curious passing male officer chanced inquiring, albeit nervously. Seeing the daunting, darkly-cloaked Commander stumble and nearly topple to the ground had evidently startled him enough to speak up without consideration for the possible ramifications.

As Ben’s mask sharply met his innocent inquisitor, the poor officer paled, lowered his eyes, and dashed off to fulfil whatever his duties required of him, probably praying that he wasn’t going to receive a physical backlash for his invasive questioning. Ben wouldn’t have reprimanded the frightened fellow anyhow, however, for there was simply no time to devote to his fake persona by tending to tetchy, insignificant matters that didn’t directly pertain to the welfare of his family, so Ben took a few seconds to right himself and collect his thoughts. The unsettledness that had almost sent him arse over elbow confounded and worried him greatly.

 _Ami…_ came his prompt, cognitive conclusion on what had juddered him so.

It hadn’t taken long. Somehow, his daughter had already found a way to screw with his and Rey’s escape plans—something reprehensible that she _knew_ to be wrong—though Ben couldn’t yet piece together what that was precisely. The teen’s Force defensives were remarkably combative and doing their job of shutting him out. Whatever had occurred in her cell below, it was significant enough to trigger a reaction so gut-wrenching and remorseful in the youth that, for a moment, her feelings had torn through their protective barriers and nearly brought her father to his knees.

_Ami… What have you done?_

Scrambling not to panic, Ben glanced at his surroundings in search of any notable signs of distress or protocol activation. Since Ami had used her Force sensibilities mere moments ago, there was a viable chance that her abilities would set off the alarms attached to her cell should the outcome have been physically damaging.

No personnel picked up their pace, though, nor did the intercom sound an alert to a breach in security. To Ben, this stalemate of sorts was both odd and slightly comforting. He still had to figure out a way to retrieve his daughter’s and wife’s lightsabers, however. Snoke’s earlier interference with his scheme, along with the un-expectancy of his uncle’s arrival to base, had botched that up well before he could secure them. Now he had even _more_ personal matters to solve.

Half desperate and half too crazed to stop himself, Ben reached out to Ami as he marched closer to the main hanger, fully aware that Snoke was, in all likelihood, listening in on whatever telecommunications might be forthcoming from his apprentice. He forced his feet farther and farther from where his heart would have much rather rushed to: her side. 

_‘Don’t do anything stupid, you hear?’_ he instructed his daughter severely, warily. _‘Stay where you are._ You hear me _?’_

There was no response. He would expect this of Rey; she was extraordinarily cool, even frightfully calm, under stressful circumstances, though _this_ —their family’s imprisonment—was on another level of distress to combat. Still, she was far more astute and clear-headed than Ben when it came to reacting instantaneously to bad news, whether out of hysteria or concern. That was one of her many strong-suits and why he needed her to (hopefully) knock some sense into their eldest, whatever she might have gotten herself into. Amidala was too brash and reactive. ‘Like her father,’ Rey had often joked throughout the years, with a knowing smirk.

That had never seemed more apparent to Ben than at this desperate moment.

 _‘Answer me!’_ he demanded, as he whipped across a metal platform and hung a sharp left, moving ever nearer to the entrance. He could feel his emotional coils slipping and failing him the longer the silence sustained. There were no inklings or suggestions indicating that she might heed his calls; or that she was hearing him at all.

Perhaps _this_ was what Snoke and General Hux were counting on, Ben had considered one too many times in the past: the mental undoing of the most ‘trusted’ and ‘steadfastly loyal’ follower to the Supreme Leader. Snoke had put Ben to the test many, many times since the establishing days of the Proclomation—emotionally, physically, spiritually—but the loss of control over protecting those whom he loved most (and whom he had done his utmost best to keep a secret from the enemy for many years), would be considered a delicious treat in Snoke’s view.

Ben suspected that Amidala was right about one score she had raised in her cell that pertained to the sinister mastermind (not that Ben would have allowed her to become anymore distraught by acknowledging her misgivings): the probability that Snoke knew _something_ of Ben’s incriminating second life was quite strong. There remained the slim, desolate chance that the all-knowing Sith had no suspicions as to his apprentice falling in love with ‘the girl’, whom he had sought to destroy through destruction for nearly two decades; that they had married and had a family of three now, two of whom possessed Force capabilities that might eventually rival their parents; that Kylo Ren had turned his back on all of his master’s teachings and forceful influence since he was a mere boy, lonely and aching for a sense of belonging and sought something greater than himself; that he had ultimately failed in every attempt to indoctrinate his most hungry student with hatred and darkness. Instead, that student had made a quiet, painstaking return to the Light, feeble as those efforts sometimes had felt, and accepted it as one accepts oxygen into their lungs.

Snoke _might_ not know the arc of Ben Solo’s story nor the full extent of his true colours but those odds were fading out of his favour more and more with each passing second, especially since Snoke had mentally assaulted both Amidala and Astrid in search of such damnable evidence, and without Ben’s or Rey’s ability to interfere before the damage might have transpired.

Ben made to wash these shameful thoughts from his mind and pushed on towards Chewie and Uncle Luke, whose Force presence was gaining strength with every forward step. He ignored artless staff, Stormtroopers, and officers whom he passed in his wake, and they indicated no sense of anything being out of the ordinary. They gladly parted to give more room to the volatile-prone, fallen Jedi as he entered the main hanger, his strides miffed and determined.

 _The old man had better have a plan of his own for escaping this place_ , Ben slammed his estranged uncle internally. The stolen cruiser, powered down and supposedly empty, was in the midst of heavy inspection. A swarm of Stormtroopers were standing by, surrounding the ship from all sides. Three came strolling down the ramp to join their flanks, not appearing particularly fazed by whatever they had found.

Had they found anything? Where were Chewie and Uncle Luke?

Ben could spot no one inside the cockpit, but that meant nothing when it came to his two sneaky-prone relations. If they were attempting to hide, the ship was far too small to conceal them. Perhaps a single trim man could find a place to duck out of sight, but not a seven and a half-foot Wookie.

 _Bad_ , he deduced, his hopes sinking fast. _This is all bad. They shouldn’t have come._

Officer Creed suddenly materialised at the top of the ramp, marching in front of another Stormtrooper who took up the rear. Beside that Stormtrooper and placed in handcuffs was a fugitive, and Ben’s suspicions immediately flared as they came into view. Creed had overstepped his orders not to interfere with the inspection process— _Unless his orders came from Hux directly_ , which wouldn’t have surprised Ben—and accompanying the Stormtrooper was none other than the Wookie.

Chewie vocally and physically protested the Stormtrooper’s manhandling as he was manhandled off the cruiser, fighting against his restraints. Having a blaster rifle aimed at his side seemed to subdue the Wookie’s objections, however, if only a little.

Ben wasn’t fooled. He exhaled a tremulous breath as Creed, Chewie, and the unidentified Stormtrooper approached him and balled his hands into fists at his sides. _I have no fucking time for any of this._

* * *

**Six Years Earlier**

**(Felucia, Outskirts)**

Ben leaned forward from behind a thick pillar that was blocking his view of a matter of importance, allowing the slightest tug of a smile to form where a series of wary lines tended to reside. When it came to certain company, and this secluded place, there could be no let-down of the redeemed Jedi’s guard. However, what presently had Ben beaming with unmitigated pride would have understandably made any father proud, especially any Jedi parent: the sight of his preciously shrewd, hard-working six-year old mastering a few early exercises with a training lightsaber.

It was both humbling and satisfying to behold Amidala embracing her Force sensibilities as Ben once couldn’t; or struggled to, rather. Rambunctious, all too eager to please, and a bit of a tousled mess by comparison to the elder, slower-moving Master Jedi who practiced duelling against her—the intricate braids Rey had put in their daughter’s hair that morning were now blowy and coming apart, and there were bits of dirt spotting her flushed cheeks—Amidala and Master Luke took their time circling one another, assessing and targeting one another’s movements.

Unlike Amidala, though, there had been a much darker, overbearing shadow that loomed over Ben’s shoulder, pushing away his every studious effort to embrace the Jedi verse. Thankfully, there appeared no worrisome signs in relation to Amidala and her gifts; no lingering cloud that waited in the wings, hidden and obscure, intending to sabotage her efforts when Ben and Rey least expected it. She laughed often, smiled even more, and took heart in her instructions, shrugging off mistakes when they occurred and taking Master Luke’s instructions in stride. Her exercises had only shortly begun, but the markings she was showing already had raised more than just her parents’ eyebrows.

Today was no exception.

All of a sudden, the small smile that the visual of his daughter wielding a lightsaber had captured dissipated from Ben’s face like a light snuffing out. Observing quietly from his shaded, overlooked spot beneath the canopy of his uncle’s crumbling hideaway, Ben spotted Amidala’s miscalculation before the youngster saw it coming. She stepped out of an invisible perimeter to shuffle towards Master Luke and slid to the ground just as the Master Jedi rolled his left shoulder, thereby blocking her advance. She missed his impending strike, but bringing herself to a knee cost her the visual of her opponent’s next move. It was only but for a moment, but Master Luke proved swift and cunning in keeping up with his much younger pupil. By the time Amidala switched knees and twisted her body to strike back, his lightsaber had swung forward to meet her throat. He could have severed the little girl’s head clean off her shoulders—were he a Sith or another adversary, of course—and the graphic notion that that harrowing visual evoked sent Ben charging onto the scene to intervene, long, powerful arms swinging furiously at his sides.

“Daddy!” Amidala exclaimed, eyes bright and cheerful as he approached; she apparently remained ignorant to the flash of fear and hostility manifesting on her father’s face.

“Next time, Ami,” Master Luke advised, momentarily redirecting his Padawan learner’s gaze, “turn but halfway. Remember what I told you at the start of these sessions?”

“‘Never turn your back on your opponent’,” she diligently repeated, nodding her understanding. “Yes, Uncle.”

“Very good.” Master Luke stepped aside to cut his lightsaber’s connection, by which point Ben had reached his side. He was heaving hard and pinned his uncle with a near maddening glare. “Ah!” Master Luke greeted happily, casting his sights on his distraught nephew. “You’re early! Her exercise isn’t over for another twenty min—”

“ _Just what do you think you’re doing_?”

Master Luke’s eyebrows drew together, perplexed. “What does it _look_ like we’re doing?” he challenged, though with caution, offering no hint of being affronted by Ben’s questioning.

“You would _never_ have drawn your lightsaber so close to _me_ as you did to Ami just now,” Ben spat low, trying to keep his temper levelled; the exasperation still trickled through his trembling vocal chords, however, “and I was much older!”

“Ben, please, calm down!” He started to put up a hand in protest but Ben’s growl stopped him short.

“She’s _six_!”

“Actually, I’m almost seven, Daddy. Next month, remember?”

Amidala’s casual correction stunted her elders, both of whom turned, baffled, from one another to the little girl. To stop himself from snapping at his daughter as well, Ben brushed a shaky hand through his hair and forced several deep breaths. Although he still felt highly charged by the incident, he settled for a disgruntled look and hands on hips approach. He figured it was better than seizing the old man by the throat…and in front of his child, no less.

“Can you give us a moment, Ami?” he asked—begged, rather—issuing a forced calmness that Amidala suspected to be feigned.

“Yeah, fine.” The intelligence in her dark eyes was, to Ben, far too apt for a six-year old. She playfully swatted her father’s elbow and slipped out of earshot, brandishing her lightsaber this way and that around her great uncle’s overrun backyard, practicing her moves.

“What’s the matter?” Master Luke urged as soon as Amidala was at a safe distance, sounding a bit cross himself. “We were _practicing_ , Ben.”

That served to only rattle Ben’s nerves. “That was too close, and _you know it_! You could have caused her serious bodily harm!”

“How can you say that?” Master Luke disputed, visibly agog by Ben’s claim. “I knew right well what I was doing!”

“You don’t think that’s not why Rey and I always turn up early or hang around to oversee her training sessions with you?”

A slow but painfully profound frown sunk into the aged lines around Master Luke’s mouth. “That’s most uncalled for.”

Baited by the sting he had left, Ben propelled, with jarring derisiveness, “Shall I lie instead? Would that please you; or serve either of us better in the long-term?”

“‘In the long-term’,” Master Luke scoffed, with a grave shake of his head.

The bitterness in his voice jostled some of Ben’s anger, sending it slightly off point. His uncle rarely displayed his frustrations so openly, as though the long, isolated years spent on Ahch-To had rendered his facial features void of showcasing any spectrum to a great many human emotions. He offered Ben a sharper, introspective look-over.

“If you don’t trust me with your daughter then, perhaps, it’s time we severed these sessions.”

Taken aback by that proposal, Ben blinked in surprise. “Are you quitting on your great niece?”

“No,” he asserted, “on the contrary, I believe you would _prefer_ that I not work with her anymore.”

Ben’s spirited eyes narrowed. “Don’t paint yourself as the victim, Uncle.”

“I’m not—”

“Because it’s _Ami_ who will suffer for it this time.”

There was a considerable pause at that, two pairs of eyes fixed on each other, with the echo of past hurts bouncing back and forth between them. “I have no wish to hurt her, Ben. I have no ill intent towards her or to you or to Rey or to _anyone_.” Every point was stressed, but Ben didn’t budge. Master Luke’s hands dropped to his sides in defeat. “I’m simply trying to get to the root of our…problem; an issue that, I think you’ll agree with me, resurfaces too frequently for us to keep ignoring.”

With that, the elderly Jedi lowered his eyes a fraction and Ben found himself mimicking his former teacher’s own uncertainty and underlying pain. He had no problem admitting that he still took tremendous issue with his uncle—he and Rey had vocalised their reasons many a time before—but Master Luke was also right: the nagging, unabating bickering had raged on for too long, labouring in its long-held, restrained silences and without resolve.

Ben wasn’t particularly keen on getting into the particulars now, though, especially with Amidala mere feet from them and likely pretending not to listen in on whatever of their row she could overhear. “You proposed the idea of training her,” he stressed softly, eying his daughter sidelong, with care.

“And, I believe, the agreement to instruct her was a _mutual_ decision,” Master Luke countered, his voice equally as quiet. “One we thought would be beneficiary to all.”

“It was ultimately _Rey_ ‘s choice, not mine.” Ben refused to mix words, and they were proving no less cutting in their style, as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared his uncle down some more.

“It doesn’t matter,” Master Luke argued, sighing. “I was still provided the opportunity and, for that, I’m grateful.”

Staring for a short pause without flinching, Master Luke slowly brought his hands together in front of him and asked his nephew more pointedly, “What’s this _really_ about, you and I? All this divisiveness… All the ugly discord between us that has carried on and on… We’ve never dealt with it, Ben; or, at least, not to the extent of which, I believe, _you_ require in order for us to move forward.

“We’ve both made mistakes, surely?” he relayed gently, evincing a touch of sadness. The familial tenderness Ben recognised churned his stomach. He tried to stomp it down somewhere that it would not affect him. “I’ve expressed my regrets and transgressions to you before, as I have to Rey, so now I ask you, Ben: what more do you want from me?”

When Ben stared on at him, unblinking and without remark, Master Luke pleaded, “Can’t we let bygones be bygones? Hasn’t enough time passed that you might make, at least, a partial effort to trust me again?”

“Don’t start on me about trust!” Ben snapped.

“ _You’ve forgiven me_ ; or you wouldn’t be here…or have come this far. And you’ve come remarkably far, Ben—I’m so proud of you, you must know that?—so why continue to carry around this animosity and resentment? Of what benefit does it serve to you? To _her_?” He pointed an adamant finger at Amidala, who, at once, ceased swinging her lightsaber and faced them, perplexed.

Ben’s jaw clamped tightly as he struggled to hold back the streaming series of violent images from the past that wanted to catapult to the front of his mind. And his tongue.

“That day—you know the day of which I speak, Uncle—that you were supposed to be there but you weren’t. You promised Rey; you promised _me_. Hell, you promised my mother, your own sister!”

“ _Ben_ ,” Master Luke warned, and it was with such sudden irritation that Ben almost ceased to speak. Almost. He had only heard that tone of voice in his uncle once before in his youth, and yet, it wasn’t going to unnerve him now.

“A sister whom you abandoned before!” Swirling, infuriated eyes fused on their target, brewing, their depths darkening. “You were supposed to meet us. Have you forgotten how Rey nearly got herself killed? You practically blew the whole operation!”

“Ben, I told you: I had no choice—”

“ _Everyone has a choice_ , Uncle! You told me that once! _YOU_!”

Realising that the negative energy about him was starting to take proper shape, Ben stole a glance at Amidala again, who remained frozen, unmoving, with her curious eyes glued to her father and great uncle. He quickly encouraged her to carry on with her training and she did so, though reluctantly.

Ben’s next glare for Master Luke was enough to freeze a man’s heart. “I know your excuses. I’ve heard them time and time again. You may have my mother fooled about your actions that day; you may have softened my wife’s regards, even regained much of her sympathy and played successfully on her unfailing love for you; but you will _not_ have my trust so easily.”

“Ben,” Master Luke beseeched, reaching out to him, “how can you say—?”

“You’ve abandoned me time and time again, Uncle.” Master Luke recoiled, much like a wounded animal. “From me you have no right to expect anything more than tolerance, just as I expect nothing but the same from you.”

Master Luke’s mouth hung open, stuttering and mumbling as he tried to find his voice again. “I… I’m sorry that you see my actions as so…ill-reputable, Ben.” It was obvious that he was struggling to speak, each word causing him a great deal of anguish to utter. Steel blue eyes fluttered, turning to and from Ben, as he made to convey in a choked whisper, “I’m sorry. Truly sorry, Ben. I wish you knew…just how much… I would like to have your trust again; your love and your confidence in me. I… I will continue to hope that, one day, your faith in me will be wholly and deservedly restored.”

Ben didn’t reply but his glare softened marginally, as he, too, took a step back and lowered his hands from his hips.

“I must go. I…need time to meditate.”

Master Luke shifted his weight from side to side. He paused to present Amidala with one last warm regard—she was still standing at a distance but closely monitoring their body language—and then bowed curtly to Ben before disappearing into his house. Ben wasn’t aware of staring on at the empty spot where his uncle had been moments before until Amidala gave a sudden light tug on his arm. Startled, he peered down into her honest face and found her frowning in a manner that, again, seemed too wise for such a tender youngling.

“Should we go, Daddy?” she asked, timid and uncertain of what had happened.

“Yes, my little star,” he concurred, wishing to sound reassuring. He smiled for her but it didn’t quite reach his eyes and, alas, she knew. He wrapped an arm around her small shoulders and hugged her to his side. “Let’s go home and see your mother, shall we?”

“Okay…” It was only once they had walked a short distance around the perimeter of Master Luke’s hut that Amidala chanced speaking again. “Will I be back tomorrow, Daddy?”

Ben turned to her, gripped somewhat by the concern she openly displayed. “We shall see, Ami. Your mother and I need to talk first.”

Amidala pouted and lowered her eyes to the ground. “Why do you dislike each other so much?”

Ben started at that. “We don’t dislike each other, little star.” He caressed her by the chin. “We just…see things quite differently.”

Amidala’s eyes rose, confused. “And that’s bad?”

“Not…necessarily, no.”

“Then why can’t I come back tomorrow?”

“Ami—”

“I don’t know what Uncle Luke’s done to displease you, Daddy,” she begged, with earnestness, craning to look up at her father as they reached his ship that would transport them home, “but _please_ give him one more chance. _Please_? For me?”

Ben stared down at his daughter, wrestling with the desire to oblige her every whim or continue to harbour what he considered to be deserved resentment from past trauma. Her innocent, heartfelt plea reminded him all too sorely of what he had urged of his uncle only earlier, however: ‘It’s Ami who will suffer.’

Ben swallowed his enmity but for his little girl alone. “I have to converse with your mother, Ami, but I’ll consider your wish to continue training with him, all right?”

Amidala sprung into Ben’s arms to squeeze him with all her miniature might. An enlivened smile crossed her face and then she scurried onto the ship ahead of him, leaving Ben to curse himself under his breath before following after.

 _For Ami_ , he reminded himself, determined to keep his reservations under wraps for the reminder of their trip home—at least, until he saw Rey. _Don’t force her to suffer for your own personal discontentment with your uncle._

 _And if he, too, disappoints her in the end?_ his conscience counselled. Ben strapped himself into the cockpit, turned on the engine, and waited for Amidala to lock herself into her seat safely. _Then she’ll finally understand her mother’s pain and mine…_

That wouldn’t do for the eldest child of Ben and Rey Solo. Their ship soared to the skies, Ben’s mind refusing to think on how, perhaps, it was as the stars had supposedly preordained, if one believed in such divine interventions: if a Skywalker was made to suffer, so, too, would a Solo.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : I hope this update can provide a comforting distraction with what's going on around the world right now. Stay safe and take all recommended precautions, guys. **
> 
> **Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

****

**Chapter 18**

_“Her body speaks sunrise beautifully.”_

–spinningsharks

* * *

_The next two weeks were some of the most emotionally gruelling days Rey could recall, every waking moment seemingly tugging at the last of her frayed nerves. Instead of what should have come naturally to her by now—perfecting the needed skills Master Luke had set in motion for clearing her mind of all troubles and becoming one with the Force—it was now Rey’s daily, near minute-to-minute strife to hone all of her focus on her training rather than the regularly accompanying Thorn-In-Her-Side, also known as Ben Solo._

_He had begun annoying her for all sorts of new reasons, never permitting her proper breathing room, for starters. Whether they practiced duelling, meditation, or another Force sensitive exercise of Master Luke’s instruction, Ben was nearly always with her. If he could have breathed directly down her neck, if only to aggravate her, he would have surely done so…just to watch her writhe and snarl._

_Ben’s nagging presence gnawed at Rey’s insides, though no longer for the reasons for which she had despised him before. She couldn’t hate him now, for the mask had been removed, literally and figuratively, shattered and jagged and utterly tragic. She understood too much the gravity of the burdens he carried and, rather, it had become her purpose to prove the reforming Jedi’s argument wrong: she did not ‘like’ him, thank you very much, and it was high time that he got that hot-headed, self-assured nonsense clonked out of his skull._

_Rey’s solution was simple at the off: ignore Ben at all costs and maybe, eventually, he would tire of trying to gouge unresolved feelings out of her. Adding to the throbbing headache of having to deal with Ben on the regular was that in her feeble attempts to ignore his existence, he took her challenge to task and made her attempts more taxing than she could have foreseen._

_Aside from constantly being around to take part in Master Luke’s various exercises—or partaking in the breakfast and dinner routines the three of them collectively shared—Ben made a point of trying to talk to her whenever the opportunity arose. Rey knew exactly what he was up to, too: he wanted to make himself more of a problem. He knew well that anything he said carried the potential to trigger an outburst, and it seemed that he was all too delighted to poke Rey until she told him precisely what he wanted to hear._

_‘But it’s not what he wants to hear, is it?’ she would question her own conscience around the clock. ‘That’s only a half truth, Rey._ You _know the whole of it…’_

_That unhelpful thought prodded Rey to throw herself into more meditation, work harder at her training, and curl up into a ball at night when she couldn’t sleep and dreams refused to shoo away the feelings that festered in her heart. The nights were the worst but, at least, she was no longer alone in her insomnia. Perpetually, though the time of night varied, she would, at some point or other, overhear Ben in the room next to hers. Sometimes he moaned in his sleep, other times it was soft cries in the dark, but now she was aware of what his broken soul called for and that made such interruptions admittedly…comforting._

_He was lonely, too._

_Sometimes that was the only thing keeping her from lounging at him and pummelling him into the dirt during their training. She understood his darkness, the painstaking efforts it would take to bring him back to the Light, and what was, in all likelihood, keeping him on Ahch-To day after day: a pestering shot at redemption. Wasn’t she, at least, partially responsible for instilling him with such hopes, after all?_

_The truth was Rey_ did _like Ben Solo. A lot. Despite their rather testy interactions, he understood her in ways no one else had ever come close, and it hadn’t taken mere Force connections alone for Rey to establish that their understanding of one another ran much deeper than average. Not even Finn, one of her only friends, felt her on Ben’s level. Their profound, complicated bond both excited and terrified Rey_.

 _How could she_ not _be fond of him on some level at that? After all, it had been Ben Solo, not Master Luke or anyone else, who had sheltered her once, taking her in and caressing the ache in her heart as an orphaned child. It pained Rey now to realise that she had grossly forgotten Ben entirely, even if that had been his own doing. She recognised that same strength of character in him today as she had as a little girl, those glimpses of breathless compassion that had been shrouded when he first arrived on the island two months prior but still resided therein._

_The inherent goodness. The wondrous selflessness that existed despite his own pain._

_Ben was changing—nay, returning to himself at last—crawling and clawing his way back to her with each new day. She was proud of him for his strides. Immensely._

_Jedi weren’t permitted to carry attachments, however; not of the romantic sort, anyhow. Wasn’t that Darth Vadar’s downfall, Ben’s own grandfather? Rey didn’t know the full scope of the story and she wasn’t about to probe Master Luke nor Ben for details about their dysfunctional family history; but she remembered the Jedi Code for attachment, both from her previously suppressed childhood memories, as well as from Master Luke’s recent studies. Her teacher had never made mention of any past romantic attachments himself, so shouldn’t she follow his example?_

_A brief examination into how romance had ultimately played out for General Organa, another Force-sensitive, was enough to provoke Rey into rethinking such jeopardising pursuits_ _. The general had lost her husband and from the shadows she had observed from Ben’s childhood all too recently, their relationship had been a rocky, turbulent one from start to finish._

Then she lost Ben, too…

_Romance seemed far too complicated and messy an affair for Rey to get stuck in with. Ben may be redeeming himself—heck, he may have even possessed feelings for her, too; it certainly would appear that way—but weren’t these inclinations just a distraction from why she was here?_

_Couldn’t Ben simply be the first person Rey had felt intensely drawn to because of their shared connection to the Force?_

_Maybe it wasn’t even romance, she tried to desperately thwart at. She knew she suffered from a bad case of loneliness that had left her pining for hearty connections all her life. Perhaps_ that _explained why’s Ben words had stuck and kept forcing their way into her head, leading her to doubt her own sentiments and what was the truth._

_Rey had never really given proper thought to gifting her heart to someone else. A relationship, marriage, and certainly a family of her own had been only wish fulfilment, intangible and unrealistic to the life of a starved scavenger destined to a lifetime of solitude. By the time she was a teenager, such fairy-tales had all but evaporated from Rey’s thought process. Those dreams would only serve to swallow her whole, if she wasn’t careful, and fending for, sticking up for and living for herself was all Rey had. Life on Jakku had taught her the hard way of how to look out for herself._

_Then_ he _ploughed into her isolated world, suddenly and unexpectedly and, at first, camouflaged as a psychopath hellbent on destroying her and what little she had left to hang onto. He became the convoluted ghost from her past, sharp around the edges and, as it turned out, just as fragile as her; just as abandoned and alone and seeking refuge where he could find none. A home in another person._

For the love of everything, go to _sleep_ , Rey!

_Rey tossed and turned for yet another night. She whined, flopped onto her opposite side, and clung to her pillow in order to block out pervading thoughts for the man sleeping in the bedroom next door. She sensed that he was awake, though, and had been since they had both gone to bed hours ago. He wasn’t crying or talking in his sleep, for one, so it was merely intuition; a tingling sensation that aroused Rey on this night._

_Rey soon found herself lifting her head and drawing her gaze over her shoulder towards the tattered curtain dividing them. Moonlight illuminated its fringed edges, outlining the uneven patches sewn into where holes had formed in the cloth._

_Rey sucked in a cumbersome breath and, defeated, kicked back her blankets, her next moves bold and precise. She crept towards the doorway in her bare feet and hesitated in front of the curtain, eventually drawing it back to reveal what lay beyond._

_Ben had his back turned to her on his mattress, his burly form (his feet and the blanket covering him from the waist down dangled over the edge) still but for his sides which evenly expanded and contracted with each slow breath. The blue-tinted moonlight spilt into his room and over his porcelain-like flesh, providing his cheeky intruder with a mesmerising luminescence that robbed her lungs of air. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and his well-sculpted shoulder blades, narrow waistline, and a speckle of moles Rey had never seen before dotted his back._

_“Are you just going to stand there?” he startled her by mumbling aloud, his sides suddenly unmoving._

_Rey’s lungs froze. Several agonising seconds passed before she felt brave enough to push back the curtain completely and, rather than retreat, step through._ What are you doing? _her conscience was practically shrieking between her ears._

_Rey waited, wondering if Ben would roll over, acknowledge her presence, and speak again, but he didn’t so much as budge. His silence was the invitation, one that Rey felt an unexplainable compulsion to accept._

_She tiptoed to his bed, sunk onto the flimsy mattress, and eased herself beneath the blanket intended for them to share. She purposely faced the opposite stone wall and stilled when she felt Ben’s backside lightly brush up against hers; but, curiously enough, she wasn’t nervous. She had never slept next to a man before—she had never slept next to_ anyone _—and yet, she fully trusted Ben and tucked in comfortably against a small portion of his pillow that he wasn’t smothering._

_Before Rey could contemplate the stirring situation she had painted herself into, her weighty eyelids slid shut. She hadn’t been tired until that moment but, in the warmth of Ben’s bed, she, at last, felt that she could sleep. She succumbed under the quiet, even breaths coming from Ben at her side, each low inhale and exhale of air seducing her insomniac mind to fold to unconsciousness._

*** * ***

_The next morning Rey awoke to a contrasting, far less peaceful sound mere inches from her left ear: snoring. Half dazed from such sound rest, Rey slowly rolled sideways to lie on her back and stretch her legs. She was startled by the rumbling noises which finally roused her from her private comforts and shot up in bed, her left hand flying out from beneath the covers and smacking a heavily dosing Ben hard in the face._

_“Ouch! What the—?” he groaned and gingerly rubbed at his nose where her knuckles had knocked._

_Rey scurried towards the end of the bed as fast as she could, taking much of the blanket with her._ _At some point during the night, Ben had switched sides and wound up facing her, with much of his towering, heated body snug right up against her back and buttocks. In a panic, Rey tried to catch her breath and reason with where she was, but it was as though all of her defences had somehow been drugged and she was hustling to try to re-pin them into a formation that made sense._

_To call waking up next to Ben Solo astounding was an understatement, and Rey had forgotten how exactly she had wound up in his bed. Had it been of her own free will? It wasn’t like her to sneak into a man’s room and wilfully put herself to sleep there._

_“What are you doing?” she hissed which evidently stirred a rather exhausted and perplexed Ben awake._

_“I was sleeping,” he grumbled in return, blinking up at her in confusion. He delicately shifted onto his elbow and raked his fingers through his mop of bed-headed curls_.

 _To Rey, he looked startlingly…rugged._ _It made her face grow hot._ _“How…?” she paused to glance about the room, frowning._

_Ben answered her incomplete inquiry. “You came in here last night.”_

_Rey’s gaze fell back onto Ben, no less befuddled than moments earlier. “I must’ve slept walked,” she made to reason with herself, to which Ben scowled._

_“You don’t sleep nor do you sleep walk.”_

_Rey crossed her arms over her chest. “Then maybe_ you _had something to do with it?”_

_His eyes narrowed into slits. For the first time in a while, Rey felt genuinely nervous._

_“What are you insinuating?”_ _he whispered._

_Fully alert, Rey stopped herself from saying something else regrettable. She sighed instead. “Oh, never mind.”_

_“Yeah, best you put_ that _assumption away,” he warned. He bent forward to casually hug his knees and stared Rey down as much as a sleepy, dishevelled, one-time Commander of the First Order could. “You can get out now.”_

_Taken aback, Rey threw back the blanket. “Fine!”_

_With that, Rey stood up, stomped her foot, and stormed off, her ears and cheeks an infuriatingly bright shade of red. She prayed that Ben didn’t catch her crippling blush as she retreated from the room._

*** * ***

_Every night thereafter Rey returned to Ben’s bedroom, relieved when he chose to make no mention of her visits, either the first time or any time after. They didn’t argue, as they had the first morning, neither seemingly opposed to the other’s presence when the stars resumed their brilliance overhead at the end of each day._

_On the second morning, Rey awoke to find herself facing Ben’s back. That had secretly disappointed her, though she was sure as hell not going to admit it, least of all to Ben. She snuck out of the room before they could speak._

_On the third morning, she awoke facing Ben, with him deeply entrenched in a dreamland and unabashedly snoring in her direction. His hot breaths tickled her cheeks, and she was surprised to have found the act endearing rather than an inconvenience. She made certain that her eyes were closed when he opened his._

_On the fourth morning, Rey’s right arm had flung itself over Ben’s side and her left leg somehow became ensnared between both of his. She was too paralysed to wiggle or move when she awoke and it was tortuous waiting for Ben to rouse. Once he did, their matching blushes were so severe that even a blind person would have perceived the humiliation mixed with arousal; the atmosphere was thick with it. They shimmied away from each other as speedily as they could and didn’t make much eye contact over breakfast._

_On the fifth morning, Ben had, at some point during the night, woven an arm securely around Rey’s waist. She was unable to shift out of his embrace without waking him the next day and listened to him stumble over a rather drowsy-induced apology before finally freeing her. That was as far as the discussion ever went._

_On the sixth morning, Ben had somehow wound up spooning Rey from behind. This time she didn’t attempt to squeeze herself out of his grasp. She felt too warm and cosy; at home. When Ben, at last, stirred and hastily tried to fling his arm back, Rey snatched it right back into place. Neither of them said anything for ten minutes or so, choosing to bask in this newly forming, bewitching sublimity that existed between their bodies and Ben’s bed. They listened intently to one another’s faint breathing, Ben’s increasingly heated and intense on the nape of Rey’s neck. They were finally forced to disentangle themselves, as well as unlock eyes, when they overheard Master Luke shuffling around in the kitchen making breakfast._

_On the seventh morning, Ben had spooned Rey for a second night in a row, but her face had deviated from facing the wall to snuggling into Ben’s right cheek. The tip of his pointed nose was pressed against her right cheek in return. The intimacy felt perfectly appropriate. It felt…safe._

_When Rey’s eyes opened that day, Ben’s were still shut, his dark eyelashes fluttering and dangerously close. Her lips wove into the smallest, gentlest smile and she wasn’t aware of making the next move until well after the fact. She leaned in, barely needing to inch any nearer, and lightly brushed her mouth to his. His lips were soft and smooth and tasted of something delicately sweet, yet foreign, as lushious as greenery, as fine as water. A slight moan greeted her explorative kiss and then Ben pushed back ever so slightly, demonstrating equal but cautiously-exercised interest. He lifted his weary eyes to a freshly startled Rey, who broke their lip locking at once and reared back, aghast._

_“I – I’m sorry?” Rey half squeaked, half questioned, feeling the mortifying flush that was trailing up her neck and onto her grimacing expression. Was it possible to want to_ die _after kissing someone? She wanted to die._

_Ben gave her a long, thoughtful stare. “Why?” His voice was languid, hoarse._

_“I… I don’t know.” She lowered her eyes and settled for biting her lower lip. Finding the weight of Ben’s stare simply too unnerving to be borne, she peered up at him again, alarmed that his expression was unchanged. She blurted out the words before she could stop herself, “I – I like you.”_

_Ben’s eyes, ever shadowed and intelligent, were as fixed on her as a blaster set on its target. “I know,” he replied, unblinking._

_Rey’s heart rate instinctively quickened. “Do you…?” she started and stopped, feeling the flicker of hope within wavering on the brink of collapse._

_“Yes, of course,” he admitted, the sincerest of gazes roving over her beautifully open face. She had never received such a look before. “Couldn’t you tell?” His question came in the form of a low chuckle._

_“I… I’m not the greatest judge of…of that.”_

_A left hand suddenly emerged out of the corner of Rey’s eye, fingertips slightly worn and calloused from overuse with a saber (amongst, Rey could only assume, other devious ill-handlings), and adjusted a few hanging hair strands that he thoughtfully tucked behind her ear. Those same fingers then travelled the length of one half of her jawline. An enticing shiver ran the length of Rey’s spine. She was unable to disguise her reaction to his purposeful touch._

_“That makes two of us,” Ben murmured, eyes glued to hers._

_Rey wasn’t sure who first sought the second kiss, but its capturing was rapid, yet, as carefully executed as its predecessor. Each shyly inspected the other’s plush lips, pressing back and forth with just enough will to illicit small gasps and tight moans of pleasure._

_When their lips parted, they did so at the same time, only Rey was no longer laying beside Ben but hovering over top of him. She didn’t know how she had ended up in that position, but her_ _breath slipped as she plucked inner bravery required to carry on. Ben, too, rose from the mattress, carrying the weight of Rey with him. His robust arms snaked firmly around her lower back, holding her steady, though she had no interest in fighting him off._

_“My uncle will be up,” he stated in haste, his voice alluringly calm but hushed. His words snuffed Rey’s growing arousal out like a flame faced to the wind. “We must be quiet.”_

_Rey agreed but by way of a disappointing nod, unaware that she was pouting at him as well. Ben’s face broke out in a boyish fashion that momentarily robbed Rey of oxygen. This morning she had played host to a number of new Ben Solo visuals, such as the smitten, charming smile that currently lit up his face; it was so carefree and innocent as to be rendered practically unrecognisable. It was also suggestive of the shared unmitigated joy that they both were experiencing over their blossoming undisclosed relationship._

_Without another word, Ben slid Rey off of his lap, as though she was weightless, and plopped her down on the mattress. He then rose to his full height, gathered his scattered clothes together from the stone floor, and began to dress himself, starting with his stark robes._

_Rey reluctantly followed his lead, rising from Ben’s bed a little less enthusiastically and sneaking back to her room to shimmy into her boots. She was otherwise fully clothed, save for her wrap-around robe, and hesitated to go into the main sitting area without Ben. That was a first, and a thought that sent her off balance when she ungracefully stepped into the main area of the hut moments later._

_As Ben had anticipated, Master Luke was awake, present, and seated cross-legged on the floor, meditating in his usual spot at the head of the short wooden table they used for dining. He didn’t open his eyes at Rey’s approach, but she could feel the spikes in his energy. Was he aware of the consuming emotional bond blooming between her and Ben? He knew of their fierce Force connections already, of course, and hadn’t been at all too elaborate about their meaning so far, and yet, their growing attachment had been kept amongst themselves._

_An abrupt wave of panic seized Rey by the throat. Why had she never considered what her master might think of her deeper feelings for Ben? Did he deserve awareness of it? She hardly knew what to make of them herself, so why_ should _Master Luke know just yet?_

_Rey swallowed her impromptu nerves and shoved her legs into a seated position next to him. As soon as she crossed her legs, however, Master Luke’s eyes shot open and stared long and hard into hers. The result was agonising, as though she was naked and exposed, her heart, too, suddenly laid bare before him. She wanted to speak but her grasp of words had lapsed._

_“If you heed none of my advice, Rey, do only this,” he advised, though without the glint of anger she otherwise sensed swirling about them, “stay away from my nephew.”_

* * *

**Proclamation’s Star base**

**(Present Day)**

Amidala crossed through a durasteel archway to an empty lift that opened at her wordless command, holding her breath for the majority of its ascent to the upper floors. The climb felt exceedingly long, as if the menacing Supreme Leader himself, content to endlessly lurk in the shadows, was exercising his will from far, far away— _Whatever hell hole in which he hides…_ —to slow the elevator’s ascent to a crawl.

She was joined by two unidentified Stormtroopers, both of whom she had convinced moments earlier to leave her unconscious brother behind where he lay: face down in the middle of his cell. “He won’t wake,” she had convinced them rather too certainly, and with the added benefit of instituting some subtle Force-enacted persuasion. “Leave him be… _with the door open_.”

Her first attempt at such mental manipulation had stressed to her one vitally important lesson: a weak mind really _was_ too easily controlled. Her father and mother had emphasized the dangers many times over what could be done to the feeble-minded, as had Master Luke throughout her training. She had never put it to the test before, however, and was a touch stricken by how effortlessly her attempts had panned out.

There was also another underlying concern: had she, herself, become beguiled to Snoke’s recent mind molestations? Surely not, if she was well aware of the fact and of what the cold-hearted bastard was after. She had fought against him, after all, to the best of her abilities once he finally played his card.

_Yet, here you are, Ami, ready and willing to make a deal with the galaxy's most twisted monster…_

At last, the doors parted with a defining _whoosh_ , allowing Amidala to step from the cramped, low lit elevator and release a shuddering breath. “This way,” one of the Stormtroopers ordered and marched ahead of her. The other prodded Amidala forward, with a brief pressing of the tip of his blaster rifle.

There was no point in contesting—not unless she wished to cause more headaches for her father, at least—and, thus, Amidala tailed the head Stormtrooper down a blinding pathway of rushing military personnel, uncertain of where she was going but fully cognitive of who she was about to meet. Her clammy fingers coiled at her sides. She was defenceless without her lightsaber. Shouldn’t her father have returned with it by the time she had to stipulate a plan of her own?

“You will tell the general that the cellblock is secure and that I’ve come willingly…upon Snoke’s orders,” she stated lowly to the Stormtroopers, as they brushed shoulders with droids and diverted militia, eyes scanning her surroundings for any signs of a familiar black-chromed mask. Odd that the sight of Kylo Ren should have proven a comfort at this dire moment.

Amidala quivered and stepped through a gateway, down another narrowing corridor, and straight to where she had first been led to at the start of her family’s recapture: the communications post, the official ‘face’ of the Proclamation’s star base. She saw the back of a husky, ginger-haired general before he had any inkling of the young captive’s approach.

“General,” the leading Stormtrooper exclaimed a little too excitedly, spooking General Hux to attention; he whirled around with such a loathsome sneer that the visual of his hatred churned Amidala’s stomach, “the captive, as requested!”

“Ahhh, yes,” said General Hux, recovering from his start.

He shot down his angular nose at the gangly girl staring up at him. She didn’t have to stretch her neck far, though, for she was unusually tall for her age. _Pretty…but peculiar_ , the general concluded in his quick assessment. There was something off about the colour of her eyes—so chocolate that they could almost pass for the bleak pigment that was endless space—and the dusting of a few moles across her cheeks and forehead prompted unaccountable chills to course through his veins. He knew those physical attributes from somewhere. How could he not identify them in this strange girl? Whatever the Supreme Leader desired with her, his recent message had been most urgent and unforthcoming.

“The Supreme Leader is expecting you,” he informed her after a short but sickening survey up and down the length of Amidala’s form.

He stepped closer and Amidala stumbled backward, colliding with the front of the Stormtrooper at her back. The general’s face was sweaty and splotchy—droplets of perspiration clung to the deeply-set wrinkles on his brow—and the strong stench of alcohol radiating from his breath was enough to compel Amidala to hold hers.

“I – I’m aware,” she stammered, uncertain of what else she should say. All she could hope was to provide her family a little more time, particularly her father. Where was he? Would he find Han soon and get the rest of them to safety?

 _You didn’t think this through all that well, did you, Slick?_ she chastised herself, swallowing thickly.

“Funny,” General Hux spat, his expression shaping into an acute turn of incredulous, “I’ve never heard the Supreme Leader express an interest in _you_ before.”

Amidala, who had been struggling to dispose her mind of anything compromising that might incriminate her or her family later on, once more fought to lock all precious thought and memories to the deepest, securest alcoves of her mind. She knew the general to not be Force-sensitive, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t exercise physical force to extract information from her, if he so chose.

“Nor have I, sir…”

General Hux’s beady eyes narrowed. “What could the Supreme Leader possibly want with someone like _you_ , a Nobody?”

“I… I wouldn’t know.”

He cocked his head accusingly, as if he could read her mind. Amidala drew back again. That wasn’t possible.

“Oh, I think you _do_ know.”

“I honestly couldn’t say.”

“Spare me your lies!” he snipped between his teeth. “You and your mother are finished! There’s nowhere left in the galaxy to hide now! So tell me: of what purpose is a silly little girl like _you_ to the Proclamation?”

Amidala felt her cheeks draw heat. “Whatever it is, he obviously doesn’t care for _you_ to know about it, does he?” Amidala found herself goading the beefy, affronted general, feeling her inner frustrations and weariness with her family’s long ordeal overtaking her senses. “You must not be that important yourself, _sir_.”

“Why, you insolent—”

“I suggest you keep your fat nose out of it, General, for your own good. I could always inform the Supreme Leader upon his arrival of your underhanded meddling, starting with this very conversation.”

For the first time, a flash of fear escaped General Hux’s mask of intolerance. “ _Who are_ you _to threaten me thus_?” he cried out, flummoxed and enraged.

Amidala felt the sheer force of the man’s strike after the blow. She was too shocked to have seen it coming and detested how her eyes instantly watered from the assault. “Like I said,” she snarled, her voice wavering but carrying great weight, “keep away from me, if you know what’s good for you.”

The huffing, wildly exasperated general looked as though he was on the verge of toying with a second, even harder strike to Amidala’s face—one of his gloved hands hovered between them, trembling with ire—but before he dealt his choice, a timorous male officer approached.

“Sir?” He hesitantly cleared his throat.

“ _WHAT_?”

The officer quaked in his boots but answered, “Supreme Leader Snoke’s ship is coming into range.”

General Hux’s irritation plummeted like sand through a time capsule. He straightened his shoulders and dropped his decking hand to his side. He kept a critical, disquieting eye on Amidala, however.

“See that everyone is prepared to receive the Supreme Leader’s arrival, Officer Macdonald. _Immediately_.”

“Yes, sir!” The officer named Macdonald scurried away, as though his life depended upon his boss’s orders. Amidala reckoned that that was likely true.

General Hux stepped closer. When Amidala staggered and ran into the Stormtrooper a second time, he commandeered her in an instant, grabbing her by the arm and directing the end of his blaster rifle underneath her chin. She wrestled to free herself but General Hux attacked her personal space, too, by mercilessly clasping both of her cheeks with one giant hand.

“Mark my words, _Little Girl_ ,” he promised, “you’re no match for me. I’ll find out who you are and what the Supreme Leader wants with you, and then I’ll exploit you and use you to my advantage. Don’t cross me, _Pretty Nobody_ , if you know what’s good for _you_.”

He relinquished his grip, throttling Amidala hard as he did so. She was sure that his painful clutch had left gross fingerprints on her skin. She wanted to break down—to cry and holler and scream for her father, for her mother, for the Resistance to come and save them—but, instead, she bit back her tongue and made to control the tears that were forming, ready at any moment to betray her.

 _I’m so sorry, Dad, Mum_ , she bid wishfully to her parents, knowing that her thoughts were too far entrenched behind the gates of her mind for her message to transmit to either Ben or Rey. She spotted the speck of a ghostly ship gravitating towards the base and every last fraction of hope and courage washed away, along with the Padawan’s complexion. _Forgive me…and everything I’m about to do from here._

*** * ***

“Mummy?”

Rey felt herself being lightly prodded awake by Astrid and batted a few dazed, confused blinks as her sight came into focus on her littlest’s worried face. She had only recently nodded off, intending to sleep for a short while whilst awaiting Ben’s return to her cell. After several days of ongoing battling against the Proclamation, short bouts of meditation when prompted by her body’s reminders weren’t enough to sustain her anymore. She struggled to sit upright against the wall.

“ _Mummy_ ,” Astrid’s frantic voice cut in, convulsing her awake further, “the door!”

Rey detected unfamiliar voices coming from outside, followed by a bit of tussling, and then the door was opened. She scrambled to her feet and thrust Astrid behind her, one hand clamped to the youngling’s arm.

A Stormtrooper clambered inside and glued his or her’s eyes to Rey but said nothing. Their rifle blaster wasn’t aimed, but the presence of any non-Resistance armed force was enough to put Rey’s instincts on high alert.

“What do you want?” she demanded, boiling her free hand into a usable fist. If she had to fight one of these goons off with her bare hands, Rey wouldn’t think twice of doing so when it came to protecting her daughter. Her Force sensitivities heightened—and teetered—just as the Stormtrooper lowered his or her weapon. Rey’s grip on Astrid also lessened and she chanced a short step closer, eyes widened in utter shock. “How… How are _you_ here?”


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review... This story doesn't even really get kuddos...so thanks to anyone reading who gives it a kuddo as well...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 19**

“ _I talk to God, but the sky is empty!”_

—Sylvia Plath

* * *

**Present Day**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

Major Brance crept to the momentary refuge that was his secluded, low lit office and bolted the door shut behind him for extra precaution. Releasing a quick sigh, he slithered to his desk chair and turned on his computer, his aim insistent and intention to be as swift as possible. The general wouldn’t be suspicious of his absence unless he dawdled for too long.

He removed a small communicative device from inside his coat pocket and transferred the minuscule article to his computer. The incoming message, anticipated but nonetheless cryptic, took seconds to download and decode, with a few quick taps of his keyboard. Ensuring that the volume was low, Major Brance hit a button on his computer and waited.

A deep voice began speaking rapidly to him, its communication distressed, “They’re here. The situation is precarious. Skywalker knows. I couldn’t keep my cover under wraps with the Wookie present, too. Ren’s acting increasingly unstable. He stays clear of me. I don’t know what his intentions are. We don’t have much time. What are your orders, sir?”

Major Brance fell back in his chair to contemplate the tall order before him, scratching mindlessly at his trim beard. His thoughts, as always, settled upon General Organa. He loved her, really. It was easy to follow her every command and protocol since he had emerged under her ranks during the rise of the First Order. She had more than earned the respect from the whole of the Resistance well before he came under her wing, when she was still the young, brazen and forsaken princess, held captive by her father and a tragic observer to the lengths of his volatile nature beginning with the destruction of her home planet. He had heard her tales of woe but never from the source herself. Her eyes spoke enough, alight with the ghosts of her past and an unspeakable weight and drive that carried her forward where most would have sunk beneath such sorrows. It was remarkable—the general’s strength—and intimidating to a young man fresh from the outskirts from whence her legend first formulated and grew.

General Organa would be devastated if she learned of the major’s—and others’—hidden doubts. Not that they considered them personal, but Major Brance had never been convinced by Leia of Ben Solo’s total allegiance to their cause. It was crucial—’Necessary,’ he had convinced himself of long ago—to be exceptionally cautious where the general’s compromised heart was concerned. Her son was her weakness, if not the _only_ weakness she possessed, and that, in and of itself, posed a danger to all.

In these perilous times, the Resistance couldn’t afford anymore slip ups, especially if they might involve a mother’s inability to see the betrayal of her only child laying doormat right under her nose. That left the major and his fellow Resistance fighters little choice but to engage behind hers and Ben Solo’s back. The cause would be utterly foolish to place _all_ of their hopes into the biased faith of one forgiving woman, mother to the Resistance or not.

Because he loved her, Major Brance would do what was right, even if that meant shaming himself in the general’s eyes. He pondered the dicey situation some more. Then he hastily deleted the incriminating message and unplugged the communicative device from his computer. He spoke into the opposite end—a recorder—and delivered his decision in urgency, “Do what you must. If that means forfeiting your position in order to earn one of their trusts, do so immediately. Avoid Ren. Get the family back here. The attack will be on soon.”

That would have to do. Major Brance shoved the device back into his computer, typed in a series of intricate codes, and sent the message back to its recipient, his left leg shaking beneath his desk as he tried to exercise patience in awaiting the transmission’s completion. It finally beeped, signalling its successful transfer, but there was little time to breathe a sigh of relief, for from behind, a voice shook the major, sending him staggering sideways out of his chair.

“What are you doing?”

Major Brance whirled around. He was stunned to the quick to find Captain Finn standing there in his doorway, his fingers clamped around a small piece of what looked like lopsided metal which he had evidently used to noiselessly pick the lock to his office.

“Captain Finn,” Major Brance grunted, making a jittery but swift recovery, “just what do you think you’re doing eavesdropping? Some conversations are confidential and are excluded to your position here.”

“That may be so,” Finn concurred, though his voice was dangerously calm, “but I couldn’t help but observe your rather nervous tick earlier following my confrontation with the general.” He paused to squint and scan the major through open suspicion. “I heard your message, so let’s forego any time-wasting protests about what you’re up to, shall we?”

Finn took a purposeful step inside, allowing the door to naturally close from behind, and kept his sights firmly on the anxious, immobile major. “You’ve got someone working on the inside; someone who’s going to help Rey and the kids get to safety?”

Major Brance thought long and hard before he chose, though unreadily, to divulge a portion of his plan. “Yes,” he answered in brief.

Finn surveyed him with less scepticism than before. “Does General Organa know?”

“No.”

A worried glimmer crossed Finn’s eyes at this. “Does Rey know?”

“No.”

Finn straightened. “Does Ben Solo know?”

“No, of course not,” Major Brance scoffed. “He’s the reason this secret operation is in play.”

Finn suddenly rushed at Major Brance and snatched him by the lapels. “ _Have you any idea how much you may have potentially jeopardized that family_?”

“The Resistance needed assurances that Ben Solo’s allegiance was to the cause and not to—” Major Brance tried to argue but was joggled into silence.

“If Ben Solo _or_ his wife _or_ his mother so much as gets a whiff that you’ve been undermining his efforts as a spy for us,” Finn interrupted him in a hushed, desperate whisper, “the entire cause will be forfeited for it!”

“General Organa would _never_ stray from our goal,” Major Brance maintained, though he sounded a touch uncertain about the strength of his argument. “Neither would Rey. You know that, Captain.”

“That’s hardly a comfort!” Finn strained, abruptly releasing his grip. “The trust will be broken! Your insider is likely to cause more danger to that family’s welfare than aid!”

It took the major too long to retort, “We don’t know that for certain.”

“If Ben Solo finds out…” Conveying a frustrated huff, Finn placed his hands on his hips and stared the major down. “According to your insider, he’s already ‘unstable’! Imagine what he might let slip if he finds out that not only is he being watched by the Proclamation but the Resistance as well! He could blow this whole operation up and unintentionally take his wife and children down with it!”

Major Brance pointed a warning finger at Finn’s chest. “If you say anything to the general—to _anyone_ —then that might very well come to pass! I suggest you go about your business, Captain, and leave these matters to those of us who’ve been working them successfully to this end.”

Finn turned on his heel, giving a disgusted shake of his head, and started to storm out of the major’s office when further words from the man held him back. “We’ve had various spies watching Ben Solo since he defected from the First Order over a decade ago, Captain. This is hardly new territory for us. We know what we’re doing.”

Finn shot him a measured glare. He hardly realised the stance he was about to take on Ben Solo’s behalf until after the words left his lips. “This isn’t a game, Major. These are people’s _lives_ you’re toying with; people I care about. This will be all the more damaging, I promise you, once Ben realises that all of his perilous efforts for us have been undermined the whole time.” He clenched his jaw. “Rey will be heartbroken… So will General Organa… Can you live with that?”

“I’ll have to,” Major Brance softly concluded, keeping his chin raised. “My feelings, your feelings… They’re irrelevant, Captain. Once this war ends, how we accomplished it won’t matter. What _will_ matter is that there will finally be peace throughout the galaxy.”

Dismayed, Finn lowered his gaze. “I hope that, for _your_ sake, it’s worth it, Major.” He quietly saw himself out of Major Brance’s office.

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Han began to stir, feeling his conscience lift beneath the heaviness of a throbbing head injury. The incessant pounding in his temples was growing painfully sharp with each passing second. Something—or some _one_ —was hovering above him, shadowing the weakened boy from the worst of the obnoxiously bright lights that kept his cell well-lit.

For the moment, he was grateful to whomever they were, though he reckoned they couldn’t be good news. No one in this hellish place besides his father, really, was a positive omen.

“Dad?” Han gingerly raised his head, but that only made the pangs worse. His head slumped to the cold, hard floor, though he managed to squint in a vain attempt to make out the figure looming over him.

Slowly, the outline of brown, shaggy fur came into focus, followed by a soft humming noise that shook Han awake. Its response was nonhuman but a message the boy understood.

“Chewie?” Han gaped, eyes expanding and moon-shaped. The Wookie affirmed Han’s realisation with an emphasized growl, sending Han catapulting into his furry friend’s arms, ignoring the continued throbbing in his head. “ _Chewie_! It’s _you_! What the—?” He tried to pull back, but Chewie’s grip nearly crushed him. “How’d you find us?”

“Nrrrraggggg!”

“ _Uncle Luke_?”

Chewie nodded. “Narr’aummhmm,” he explained in a quiet tone. He gave a quick toss of his head towards the open cell door.

The pulsations in Han’s head increased tenfold. He rubbed at his temples in an effort to ease the tension.

“Ami…” he muttered, recalling what had led him to black out and wind up on the floor.

Chewie angled his head, curious, wanting clarification. When the boy continued peering over his shoulder but not uttering a word, the Wookie effortlessly tugged him to his feet, though he kept a sturdy paw on Han’s shoulder.

“I think…” Han started again, peering at Chewie with fresh fright in his eyes. It made the Wookie’s heartbeat quicken. “I think she’s in trouble, Chewie.”

Chewie gave him an inquisitive look over and asked a few more probing questions that Han seemed disinterested—or unable—to answer. On the surface, Han appeared to be all right, save for a bit of a headache, but the Wookie was understandably concerned as to how his little friend had wound up passed out on the ground, with his cell door open to a potential escape.

“It – It’s nothing,” Han tried to glaze over the Wookie’s questions. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I think she’s gone and done something mental this time, Chewie. We _need_ to help her! Dad, he…” Han’s complexion went white as a sheet, prompting Chewie’s worries to worsen. “I don’t think he knows. We – We had a plan! Whatever my sister’s up to, this wasn’t a part of it!”

Without wasting any more time, Chewie asked if Han could walk on his own and, once assured by more of Han’s adamant head nodding, shoved a rifle blaster into the boy’s hands. Giving the weapon a funny study, Han surmised that it must have been stolen off of an unfortunate Stormtrooper. There was simply no time to make inquiries.

Han followed at Chewie’s heel and, exercising wariness, the two exited his cell into a shadowy, soundless corridor. The silence was almost deafening, an intense discomfort to Han’s nerves.

Why had no one come for him? Surely, the enemy _must_ know by now that one of their prisoner’s cell doors was open? _Unless Ami has something to do with that, too._ Did she want him to escape? _Without Mum, Dad, or Astrid?_ None of it made sense.

After stepping into this false sense of freedom, Han almost collided with the very person who had just passed by his thoughts: his mother, who had exited her cell at the same moment and was cradling his younger sister in tow.

“ _Han_!” Rey gasped. She placed a skittish Astrid carefully onto the ground and threw her arms around her son’s neck.

“ _Mum_!” Han returned, stunned by their stroke of good fortune.

“Are you all right?” she barrelled off into a series of questions, offering no room for breath or for Han to reply, as she stepped back to thoroughly examine him. Her hands flew to his face, her eyes trailing towards the cell door behind him. Her euphoria at being reunited with one of her children became less enthused. “Goodness, where’d you get that bruise on your forehead? _And where’s your sister_?”

Rey’s question was half a demand, half filled with dread, and Han wondered if his mother carried the same sense of foreboding as he had since he had woken up, for her bewildered countenance indicated as much.

“I… I don’t know,” he confessed in an angst-ridden whisper.

Chewie huffed and carped to the pair of them. Rey’s shrewd eyes sharpened on Han.

“What happened?”

“She…” Han switched verbal direction. “It – It doesn’t matter—”

“ _What happened, Han_?”

Thinking better of propagating a lie for Amidala’s sake (for his mother was too intuitive in her mind gifts anyhow), Han slumped his shoulders and mumbled, “She somehow managed to open the cell door—it – it was as if she knew the Stormtroopers were coming—and then… I’m not sure. I passed out. I suppose she knocked me out to prevent me from following her.”

“Ami…” Rey murmured, her thoughts for her eldest wandering off in unequivocal horror and shock.

“Whatever she’s doing, Mum, we _have_ to stop her! And Dad—”

“I think your father knows something’s wrong,” Rey assured him, sounding much calmer than she likely, in fact, was. “If I can sense it, so can he.”

Han suddenly jerked and raised his weapon at something outside of Rey’s peripheral vision. “ _Mum_!” he cried. “Behind you!”

Chewie’s paw came down forcefully on top of Han’s blaster rifle, pushing it to the side and away from its aim. Rey whirled around, noticed the individual who had startled her son, and relaxed. Han glanced back and forth between them, utterly confounded, whilst Astrid looked on, transfixed. He tried to squirm his blaster rifle free but Chewie reprimanded him in Wookie to ‘cease’ and ‘desist’.

“It’s all right, Han,” explained Rey. “This is Blaze. He’s here to help.”

The questionable-looking man named Blaze nodded towards the boy in a friendly enough matter, but the fact that he was donning black chrome—armour normally adorned by a head Stormtrooper—as well as was holding the mask of a supposed Stormtrooper under his arm, kept Han on edge. He stopped wrestling Chewie to use his weapon but kept it raised and close to his chest.

“People around here call me Creed,” Blaze replied, offering Han a smile that was slim and all too forced. He had a handsome face, scruffy and a bit hard around the edges, but his eyes were intense and serious.

Han warily surveyed him up and down, finally casting his gaze onto his mother again in the hopes of ascertaining more as to what was going wrong. “Where’s Uncle Luke?” he demanded.

“Trying to track down your father, I reckon,” Blaze interjected for Rey, who turned to him appreciatively.

“We’re so glad you came for us!”

Blaze blinked, his expression inscrutable. “I didn’t come with Master Luke and the Wookie.”

Rey angled her head at that. “What do you mean, Blaze?”

“I’ve been stationed here for some time,” the feigning Stormtrooper confessed, though it did not appear as though he was confiding to her willingly. His shifty brown eyes darted from Rey to the floor and back to her.

Rey reared back, her entire body stiffening on the spot. “‘Stationed’?” she slowly repeated.

Blaze sighed. “I wasn’t sent to rescue you, Rey. It was, rather, a matter of convenience that I was already here. I was deployed here by the Resistance…some time ago.”

A harrowing realisation surfaced upon Rey’s face. She jumped back when Blaze, also known as Officer Creed, tried to console her by reaching for her arm. “You’ve been spying on my husband,” she determined in a soft but appalled murmur.

“Rey, listen to me—”

“I knew you weren’t to be trusted!” Han exclaimed, throwing the adult exchange off by leaps and bounds. “ _LEMME AT HIM, CHEWIE_!”

In a split second, Han had bounded forward, still clutching his blaster rifle, with the aims of striking the self-exposed double-crosser; but the Wookie snatched him up by the back of his collar and held him slightly off of the floor, preventing the boy’s attack. Han’s limbs flailed uselessly. Astrid scurried backward towards her cell door, afraid of what was unfolding.

“Listen, the Resistance—” Blaze pleaded to explain but, this time, Rey was the one to stop him.

“ _Don’t_!” She seethed and bore her teeth. Her mind was frantic and reeling. “How could you…? How could you do this to _Ben_ ; to _me_?” She paused to raise an accusatory finger. “ _Does my mother-in-law know_?”

“No,” he confessed, mostly into his chest.

“ _You sons of a Bantha_!” Rey cursed and threw up her arm. She had no idea what she intended to do at that moment—perhaps, strike him across the face—for she didn’t have her lightsaber on hand, but she was obstinate about doing _something_ that might expel the pain that matched the present, excruciating blow to her gut.

“Mummy!” Astrid called out, halting Rey mid-swing.

She stumbled, taken aback by her daughter’s tiny but no less affecting cry, and that allowed her littlest time to run to her for protection. Rey scooped the tot up into her arms and stepped back towards Chewie and Han.

“ _Listen_ , Rey, please!” Blaze begged, speaking in earnest. “You’re well within your right to be as outraged with the Resistance as you wish, but right now we _need_ to get you and your family to safety!”

Rey narrowed her eyes, unbending. “I’m not going anywhere without my daughter and my husband!”

“Whatever elaborate plans Ben had to help you? They’re going to hell in a hand basket.” He chanced closing in on the family but Chewie’s heated snarl prevented him from venturing another step. “Snoke’s on his way, your daughter’s gone missing and could be anywhere, and Ben couldn’t get you out of this mess the first time! Master Luke and the Wookie here won’t be much help to you either, I promise.”

Rey, Chewie, and the children stared at him, unpersuaded by his argument, so Blaze proposed, rambling off in haste, “I know this place, too. I have Stormtroopers at my command. They won’t strike without my authorization. I can get you safely to a ship, and then you can be on your way!”

“ _No_ ,” Rey avowed, “not without _all_ of my family, Blaze.”

Blaze dropped his hands to his side, flustered. “Master Luke will find Ben and Amidala, I’m sure of it.”

“Rubbish! You don’t know that for certain, Blaze! You think I can’t tell when I’m being fed a lie?” Rey patted the back of Astrid’s head, as the girl began to whimper into the crook of her neck. “How dare you ask me to leave without them!”

“Rey—” He started and made to block her advance when she tried to walk past him.

“ _Get out of my way_ ,” she heeded evenly. Even with a child latched onto her, Rey cut a threatening figure clad in her dirtied, periwinkle Jedi robes. Chewie additionally proclaimed a warning-like howl that sent Blaze scampering aside.

“Then let me, at least, assist you!” At Rey’s inflexible glare, he pleaded to her, “You don’t have a map; you don’t know your way! I can help you!”

Rey sneered. “Then I suggest you start moving.”

Blaze’s eyes flashed from a resolved Rey to a crying Astrid, an upset, seven and a half-foot Wookie, and feisty Han, still dangling by Chewie’s paw but whose blaster rifle was unabashedly pointed directly between the Stormtrooper’s eyes.

“All right,” he accepted, reluctant, though relieved to, for the moment, reach an accord with the not-to-be-reckoned-with Jedi. He placed his Stormtrooper mask back onto his head. “We’ll need reinforcements, though,” he spoke through its voice contraption that disguised his true identity.

Rey shifted Astrid to her opposite hip and nodded ahead of them. “Fine, but then take me directly to Ben.”

Blaze—Officer Creed—bowed and motioned over his shoulder. “This way!”

* * *

Ben scowled beneath the convenience of his black chrome cover, feeling the map that he had downloaded for his family’s benefit still tucked into his pocket. This plan was a mess, and he had been so meticulous in trying to get Rey and the children out of the clutches of their enemy. Yet, they were still here, and virtually nothing had worked in their favour. Ben hadn’t been able to secure Rey’s and Amidala’s lightsabers without Snoke’s interference and the map he had downloaded remained in his possession, not theirs. His uncle and Chewie had come supposedly to help, but what more would they be able to accomplish except raise more potential havoc?

Ben had intended to follow the ‘prisoner’—to slip Chewie and Master Luke from underneath Officer Creed’s vigilant surveillance—but Creed had apparently been given direct orders from General Hux to imprison the Wookie for further questioning. _Just as I suspected_ , Ben griped, with an aggrieved roll of his eyes.

Uncle Luke, in his own Stormtrooper getup (and of which Ben had no idea how he had managed to pull it off before a couple Stormtroopers stormed the cruiser) was, from his silence in coming face to face with Ben, evidently content to go along with those orders. _Until he and Chewie botch things up by trying to get away!_ he bemoaned internally.

Having to make a speedy decision, Ben chose to leave Master Luke and Chewie to fend for themselves. They had willingly put their lives at risk, probably under the command of his mother, so they would have to find their own way out of this. The old man had to have _some_ devised plan up his sleeve for separating himself and Chewie from Officer Creed—Ben’s Force perceptions and his uncle’s overlapped in their brief encounter at the main hanger, subtly attempting to scan the other’s intentions—so Ben was all too willing to leave the screw-ups to their own devices. He had the welfare of his family to see to, first and foremost, and whatever Amidala was concocting had had Ben’s adrenaline pumping overtime for several agonising minutes now.

He had started to turn back and head for the elevators—perhaps, he could intercept Master Luke on the way and exchange communication on Amidala’s predicament—when the Supreme Leader’s presence, spine-chilling and ever elusive, alarmed Ben’s Force sensibilities. _He’s here_ , he realised in abject terror, his stomach muscles clenching on the spot.

As if in slow motion, Ben turned his head and overheard the announcement of Snoke’s arrival spread like a bolt of lightning through the base. Stormtroopers, lieutenants, and all level of personnel broke into mad sprints and congregated at the main hanger, everyone scrambling to take their place to welcome their great leader. Ben’s feet moved like two ten-ton weights towards the centre. He wanted to turn back at once, to speed straight to his family, and yet, his legs wouldn’t cooperate. It was as though the Supreme Leader was purposely toying with his unprecedented power, yanking his commander in _his_ direction against every ounce of freewill Ben possessed.

Ben wasn’t aware of General Hux’s presence until the sod was standing a hair or two in front of him, an obvious want to show off his superiority. His hands were clammy and rubbing together, conveying the man’s underlying agitation over Snoke’s arrival. Ben couldn’t have cared less…until he realised who was standing beside the panting, sweaty general.

There, handcuffed and with Captain Lascius’s gloved hand wrapped securely around her arm, stood Amidala. Her head was slightly lowered, but she tried to craftily twist her neck towards him. Ben stepped forward, ignoring General Hux’s slight huff at Commander Ren daring to stand in front of him, and, unbeknownst to all, he and his daughter locked eyes.

Amidala looked remarkably poised and collected on the outside, and only her father could discern the terror revolving like a flickering flame within her moonless eyes as she stared back at him.

Ben’s throat tightened. His stomach was so taut that, for a moment, he thought he might bend over and retch in front of everyone.

“What’s _she_ doing here?” he commanded in a quiet, panic-stricken whisper.

General Hux addressed Ben, with an irritated smirk, “The Supreme Leader has asked for her personally. Hell if I know, but I intend to find out,” he added whilst scanning Ben in a manner the commander found disconcerting.

Ben’s eyes fixed on Amidala for another heart-pounding moment or two, with her staring back in a similarly paralysed fashion. He could sense her all but begging to communicate, but he stomped that out like the slashing of a saber across his daughter’s mouth. It gutted him to put up his guard, especially now, but with Snoke’s ship now present and powering down, there could simply be no wiggle room for error.

For the first time in her short life, Ben could tell that Amidala felt entirely alone. As he tore his gaze away from her to the descending ramp that would soon present the Supreme Leader, he felt the familiar waves of dizziness and sickness shroud him in their gnarly embrace. Everything _was_ going to hell. What would he do now?

The door connected to the ramp _whooshed_ open, its aperture momentarily clouded by billowing smoke from the ship’s exhaust. Then Snoke came floating into view, decrepit and ghoulish and colossal in height. He looked as oppressive as the nightmares whispered about him over the long ages depicted.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw Amidala visibly tremble despite being too stricken to move. A violent tug from Captain Lascius at her side abated much of the Padawan’s shuddering. Every fibre of his being wanted to snatch his daughter and make a foolish break for it but he resisted.

“Commander Ren,” spoke Snoke, his phantom-like voice, though strangely ethereal, carrying tremendous verve across the quiet main hanger. “General Hux, Captain Lascius,” he additionally addressed the other two, as he reached the bottom of the ramp, where each, including Ben, knelt to the floor. Amidala was shoved to the ground as well, tripping over her feet as she was coerced to bow her head by Captain Lascius.

“Ahhh, and _you_ ,” Snoke acknowledged the dark-haired girl; Ben loathed how revoltingly personal the fiend’s address of his daughter sounded. “Rise.”

Ben, the general, and the captain easily succumbed as instructed. Captain Lascius yanked Amidala to her feet so roughly that she flinched. Ben jerked, feeling the ire of his Darkness thirsting to wreck havoc.

“The youngling agitates you, Commander.”

Ben started again, this time at Snoke’s creepy, attentive observance. No matter that the manic had it wrong. He regretted giving way to his emotions at all and allowing them to be pointed out. He lowered his head in haste.

“Forgive me, Master. I was not aware that you had required an audience with one of the girl’s offspring.”

“Nor I that _you_ have evidently done the same, Commander Ren.”

An electrical current sparked down Ben’s spine. He could practically feel General Hux’s gleeful cackling radiating off of the imperious twat from beside him, as he undoubtedly eyed the commander with ‘gotcha’-like pleasure.

“Yes, Master,” Ben rushed to provide explanation, “forgive my impertinence. I only intended to extract something useful for you; something about the mother or one of the children that you might find beneficial to the Proclamation’s plans.”

“Your boldness may be forgiven,” Snoke declared, his wise, pervasive eyes inspecting Ben as if the fallen Jedi was under a microscope. “And what conclusions have you drawn, Commander Ren?”

Ben fractionally raised his head, though he avoided the Supreme Leader’s intrusive stare. There was little to be gained by playing the ass. He was bound to pay for his actions one way or another. He took a calculated breath and answered, straining to keep any feeling for his daughter under wraps, “She is strong in the ways of the Force, Master, in manners which she does not yet realise. She carries potential. She may prove a most useful weapon to us against the Resistance.”

“Perhaps.” Whatever arrangement Snoke had in mind for Ben’s daughter, he kept it to himself. He turned his sights on Amidala, who promptly shivered under Snoke’s scrutiny, shrunk, and looked towards the ground for comfort. “I’m pleased to see that you’ve come to your senses, youngling.”

Amidala seemed adamant not to reply, though the Force swirling about her was expanding in indignation and consternation for her welfare and that of her loved ones. Ben was grateful for this small respite. Lashing out would only make matters worse for them, especially Amidala, and Ben wasn’t at all prepared to watch helplessly from the side-lines should his daughter be tortured.

“I shall get my confirmations,” Snoke promised whilst striding towards Amidala. He brought a ghostly hand, seemingly frail at a glance but powerful enough to crush a man’s skull with a mere wave, beneath her chin. He forcefully raised Amidala’s head, but she enforced her averted gaze towards the floor, defying him still. “One way or the other… _you will tell me what you know_.”

“I… I know nothing,” she claimed, her words coming in doddery spurts.

“We shall see about that.” Snoke’s clouded grey eyes fell upon Ben one more time, a disquieting glint fluttering across their knowing depths. “Come, Commander Ren. We have much to discuss.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Writing is a struggle these days. I've basically buried my head in the sand. With everything going on in the world right now, as well as stresses in my personal life, that's all that really needs saying.**
> 
> **Thank you to those who are still here. Thank you to those who review because it's heartening and cheers me onward.**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 20**

“ _No tree, it is said, can grow to heaven unless its roots reach down to hell.”_

—C. G. Jung

* * *

‘ _If you heed none of my advice, Rey, do only this: stay away from my nephew.’_

 _Well,_ that _sure_ _put a kink in the blossoming junk pile that was Rey’s and Ben’s bemusing relationship, a hefty development Master Luke had supposedly unearthed with little enactment of Force probing._

Why should I? _had been Rey’s immediate stubborn response to her teacher that morning, hot and bothered by what felt like a threat rather than considerate guidance coming from the credited Jedi whom she had quickly formed a parental attachment to; but, ultimately, she refrained from lashing out, and only because Ben suddenly wandered into the room in the midst of it all, looking alluringly dishevelled in his loose, swaying robes and mop of long, lush curls, most out of sorts due to Rey’s fingers hungrily pulling at them earlier in bed. He appeared unaware of hers and Master Luke’s too brief, clipped exchange, but that was a small gratification in the grand scheme of things._

_For all Rey knew, Master Luke had read the inappropriate thoughts churning her brain of late, and that was as paramount as anything the Jedi might caution her not to do against her will. Still, she was tired of being torn over how to feel and what to do and spent the remainder of breakfast that day, as well as the long hours that stretched into several days thereafter, labouring over Master Luke’s icy warning._

_With each blazing engagement of their sabers during subsequent practice sessions, Rey manhandled Ben with more force than she intended, her volatile moves akin to their cutthroat battle months prior on Starkiller. Each spine-tingling, penetrating gaze exchanged during meals, between training sessions, or in passing, like two ships on opposite courses but somehow following the same rotation, saw Rey no longer returning Ben’s impure musings but diverting her eyes and closing her mind off to him entirely._

_This, she was certain, puzzled the fallen Jedi, but he asked nothing. She saw no reason to inform him of what Master Luke had said to her in confidence either—at least, not yet. His and his uncle’s capricious relations were already on pins and needles and she had no desire to make matters worse. Those two had their own qualms to sort out._

_An infuriating, conflicting factor for Rey remained, however:_ Shouldn’t I be free to make my own bloody choices?

_In moments of weakness, when the outrage she wasn’t handling at all well boiled over, resulting in flung rocks during meditations that only just scraped past Master Luke’s ears or particularly hard nicks to Ben’s limbs with her lightsaber that resulted in Rey being eyed over more crossly than what had become the norm, and the poor girl was exclaiming her dissatisfaction to all. She tried grounding all pent-up frustrations into her training, but her sentiments repeatedly got in the way of her concentration._

_Liking someone really_ was _a damned distraction, Rey soon deduced, and that was, in short, unnecessary, for all of her efforts—hers_ and _Ben’s, rather—were to be focused on their mission: to train with Luke Skywalker and, together (the Universe willing it), take down Snoke and the First Order._

_Therefore, Rey put every conscientious endeavour into keeping Ben at a cold distance, though the deafening, too silent nights weakened her willpower to stay away from him. She was too weak-willed, she lamented, to keep to herself and, at some point during the night, she would crawl into Ben’s makeshift bed and curl up at his back or shimmy underneath the comforting weight of one of his mighty arms and rest._

_After three or four days of this playing out, Ben stopped responding to her visitations, though he didn’t make any stabs at kicking her out either. He simply laid like a log at her side, neither engaging nor dismissing her._

_Ben didn’t press her for an explanation as to why things had so suddenly chilled between them, but then, Rey supposed, he didn’t necessarily have to inquire. Their Force bond was too intricate and intertwined now to entirely keep one another out of each other’s minds. Rey, also, understood this returned aloofness to be her doing. Hadn’t she been pestering him to open up to her and communicate, and yet, here she was acting like a hypocrite to the lesson she had been so pertinaciously preaching? She had made to ignore him and, in turn, he reacted likewise._

_Five days following Master Luke’s unfriendly caution to Rey over breakfast, the subject was unexpectedly broached before the pink, setting sun. Deciding that she needed space following hers and Ben’s latest gruelling training rounds, Rey had climbed the steep rocks on the southwest side of the island to a secluded, circular crest after dinner, with the aim of emptying her mind…and (hopefully) dumping her mixed bag of feelings onto a solid rock or two._

S _he desired isolation and control and it was in the midst of an arduous lightsaber practice that Rey sensed Ben approaching from behind—felt his shrewdly observant, brooding eyes at her back—and, after shaving an enormous rock in half, and exercising remarkable speed and precision with her lightsaber, Rey turned to, at last, acknowledge her company. She greeted his stringent gaze with a quiet but no less prickly stillness of her own._

_The rock Rey had sliced tumbled against the cliff and crashed into the ocean below, its reverberation marking the friction between them. Neither spoke for a time, their Forces circling and flicking at one another’s energy, testing the mood for an ‘in’._

_Finally, Rey splintered the silence, the wind picking up as she pointedly said, “You’ve spoken before of your mistrust of Master Luke…”_

“ _Yes,” he replied, his voice low and calculated._

“ _And, to that end, you’ve refused to give me an answer.”_

 _Ben angled his head._ “ _Won’t the answer I provide be misconstrued as meddling?”_

“ _Depends on your angle.”_

_Staring at his unmoving, cloaked figure, which stood before a scarped incline that rose some twenty feet higher above them, a great emotional precipice drew closer. His legs were one with the jagged rocks but his robes billowed and lashed against the ocean breeze, much like ghostly, tantalising secrets appearing and disappearing within the light mist._

_Rey stepped closer, lightsaber lowered to her side. “What happened to change the course of your relationship with Master Luke? Where does your conviction that he will turn on you again come from, Ben? I… I_ have _to understand.”_

_Ben stared on, unblinking, eyes scanning her face but never withdrawing. They seemed to be in contention, struggling with, as yet, unspoken revelations that held the power to peel back the veil on that closeted skeleton between a distant uncle and his broken nephew at last. He opened his mouth to speak but then shut it, wavering between confiding and shutting down._

_Rey hardly breathed, knowing how achingly close she was to the truth. If he would but bend to her request another inch…_

‘ _I can show you,’ his rumbling energy whispered in her ears, his words echoing around them like the thrumming of the harsh ocean below, ‘but you won’t like it.’_

 _Rey’s Light responded._ ‘ _Show me anyway.’_

_He visibly shrunk before her, his measured regard intact. ‘But you love him.’_

_Rey’s shoulders tilted, shaken by that poked thorn. She ignored the tingle of misgiving fiddling up her spine, determined to persevere even if, as Ben’s heeding might suggest, the reality would hurt her._ ‘ _Yes…I do,’ she confessed. ‘And so do_ you _.’ Catching the flash of something unhinged sparking by Ben’s searching, swirling irises—perhaps, injury and insult—she pressed on quietly, ‘I just want truth, Ben. Only truth.’_

_The atmosphere was thick with tension. Ben eventually bowed his head and the gentle stroke of his Force sensitivities skimming a crease in the middle of Rey’s forehead began. He was requesting entry and conceded in a soft-spoken groan, ‘As you wish…’ that saw Rey’s body clenching._

_Without permission, Ben entered Rey’s mind._ _A rush of black mass overran her surroundings, much like the whirling ocean waves, and Rey was suddenly thrust back in time. She emerged, no longer at the southwest edge of Ahch-To but inside a stone hut similar to the one she, Ben, and Luke occupied in the present day. She squinted at the darkness, as there was no fire burning or torches lit to provide adequate light._

_It took mere moments to notice Ben, though he wasn’t his current self, large and formidable and irrevocably tarnished by time, but the young but still tortured teenager she recognised from her own stolen memories of the past. He was laying on his side, curled up on a mattress and fast asleep, though there was no peace to speak of lining the lad’s face. His grim, heavy eyelids foreshadowed the troubles that had plagued him since well before he had arrived at the Jedi Temple, his parents seeking counsel and desperate to curb Snoke’s influence._

_Suddenly, a pool of sea green brightened the space, its light source forming a trimmed, darker-bearded Master Luke. The legend himself was hovering behind Ben’s innocent, sleeping form. Rey’s heart clenched and her legs froze. In one hand, her master held a lightsaber and, in the other, he outstretched his fingers to pry into his nephew’s unprotected mind. He looked fearful and pale over what he saw, the terror in his eyes unlike the reserved nature of the present day._

_Those same widened, maddening eyes veered from Ben to the lightsaber and back to the boy, the searing decision he grappled with awakening Rey like a comet ricocheting through time and space: Master Luke was contemplating killing Ben Solo._

_Suddenly sensing a disturbance in his hut, Ben languidly opened his eyes and rolled onto his side, where he, too, greeted the same murderous look from Master Luke as Rey was witnessing from afar. Her heartbeat pounded and rang in her ears, just as, she suspected, Ben’s must have in that heart-stopping moment._

_She could hardly believe what was unfolding: the infamous Luke Skywalker, beloved the galaxy over for saving Darth Vader out of the fiercest act of love, was raising his arm to strike down his teenage nephew…and a helpless Rey could do nothing but watch._

_She might have screamed—she wasn’t aware of her own actions anymore—but at the same time as Rey either gasped or cried out, Ben summoned his saber to meet his uncle’s. Their sabers clashed, shattering trust and spitting fire, and the ground beneath them trembled and roared. Rey staggered to keep her balance as the rocks above her began to give way. She saw Ben throw his free arm into the air to push Master Luke back—perhaps, to bury him in the mounting debris—but then, like being sucked through a black hole that knocked Rey clear off her feet, everything went dark, the last sound throttling through a family’s disintegration that of a tragic Master Luke screaming Ben’s name._

_In the next moment, Rey was on her feet again, quaking and unsteady as they were, on the southwest portion of Ahch-To, with Ben standing motionlessly in front of her. The gust had kicked into higher gear, throttling Rey’s cheeks as she tried to make hopeless sense of what she had learned. She wanted to penetrate Ben’s thoughts but the way was shut, providing no solace. The prickling of tears stung her eyes, only to be wiped away by the furious, circling winds._

“ _Please tell me you’re lying,” she choked, each word overpowered by the gusts’ howling, and yet, discernible to Ben thanks to their intimate Force connection._

“ _You know I’m not,” came his frosty, unforgiving reply._

_Rey stammered, tears falling more freely, “I… I don’t understand…”_

“ _Yes, you do.” He paused, his account of the attack heavy on Rey’s heart. “He feared my powers. He knew what I was becoming and was too afraid to confront it.”_

“ _But—”_

“ _I had turned.”_

 _Rey squared her shoulders. “You’re his flesh and blood,” she exclaimed, finding it difficult to rationalise. “You’re his family! You’re his sister’s only_ son _—”_

“ _I’m also a ‘monster’, remember?” he crudely opined, taking Rey to task on one of her recent descriptors of him from the not-too-distant past; but this wasn’t an argument and Rey felt it. He was stating a cruel fact, much like a parent informs their child that the colour of the sky is blue. “This is my family dynamic. You can’t choose what you want to see—”_

“Don’t _!”_

_Rey whirled her head towards the ocean in order to wipe away the tears that continued their furious descent. Yet, rage and despair and every ill feeling in between boiled her blood and kept her eyes burning, focused._

_All of her life, Rey had yearned for such a belonging as the one Ben seemed privileged to have grown up with, with such admirable figures as Han Solo and Luke Skywalker to call his family; but as it had morbidly been revealed to her, that home hadn’t been as homey and warm as Rey imagined. It was embroiled in estrangement, miscommunication, and, now, attempted murder._

_Rey’s thoughts spun out of synch, unable to attach themselves to comforting excuses or anything sensible that might explain away what she had seen in Ben’s memory. As her pained eyes slowly fell back onto Ben, quiet and emotionless (at least, outwardly), his strength of character gutted her._

“ _You… You don’t blame him?” she questioned through a strained murmur, sensing the concealed turmoil that had, ultimately, soiled Ben’s heart._

_He blinked and cocked his head sidelong. “Why would I blame him for ensuring that I became what I was destined to be?”_

“ _Oh, do shut it,” Rey carped and bore her teeth. “A Sith of Darkness is_ not _who you were meant to be, and we both know that now! Is your life worth so little to you, Ben?”_

“ _Is it worth something to_ you _?” he challenged in short, eyes narrowed and abrasive._

“ _YES!” Rey shot back, fighting the brim of tears as she stared up at him longingly. Her expression was remarkably wise. “And it_ should _have mattered to your uncle just as much!”_

_Ben shrugged off her point. “The old man feels guilty.”_

“ _Guilt is to be expected but—”_

“ _I thought you wanted me to face my transgressions, Rey? This is one of them.”_

_Rey reared back. “What, excusing your uncle’s attempt on your life?”_

“ _If you’d like.”_

_Rey’s outrage exploded. “NO! That’s insane!”_

“ _I tend to agree.” Ben’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his stare hardening. “You, too, desired to do to me what my uncle attempted not too long ago.” He shot Rey a sneer that could curdle milk._

_Rey felt as though the wind had, at last, knocked her over, but, somehow, she was still standing. “That’s unnecessary…”_

“ _But the truth, nonetheless,” Ben coolly countered, no solace evident in that blunt bestowment._

_Rey took a moment to collect herself. “You’re hurting, Ben.” Her voice was soft and understanding and she didn’t miss how his eyes flickered. “I understand why. Your uncle’s wrought with guilt; I understand that now, too.”_

_Ben’s sneer darkened, casting an eerie ambience against the piercing winds that tousled his luscious, feathery hair. “His guilt is inconsequential to his actions.”_

“ _Yet, there are times still when you wish he’d succeeded.” Rey shook her head. “Don’t, Ben… Whatever you may think of yourself, you deserve to live.”_

_Seeing past the man’s walls and straight into that uncomfortable, brittle flash of anguish Ben strove every effort to hide from others, Rey found clarity. Maybe bringing Master Luke back into the fold to help the Resistance wasn’t the Force’s only will. Luke Skywalker wasn’t the Light’s only hope nor was she._

‘ _It’s_ you _,’ Rey murmured over the ocean’s rage, breathless, with such certainty as to rustle the trees and part the livid skies. “Of course… Ben…” Her hand reached for him. “It’s always been_ you.”

_Ben didn’t speak, prompting Rey to step forward and seize his arm. He flinched under her intrusive gaze but maintained his footing._

“ _I’ll help you.” Her declaration was urgent but gentle. “I swear it. You’re not alone, Ben. Not anymore. Your way is clear; clearer than it’s ever been.”_

_Their eyes remained locked, each Force sensitive suspended by the other’s wordless but intensive focus. Neither’s energy saw fit to yield, though the violent gusts around them began to quiet, much like Ben Solo’s forsaken soul finally reconciling; finally coming home._

_‘Home.’_

_Its’ rejected fragments stretched futilely towards the heavens, rising from the very pits of Hell._ _Then, as if in slow motion, Ben retreated. There came no reason, just silent withdraw, as his arm slipped out of Rey’s grasp and his eyes, murky and restless, tore away from her and aimed for the hill. She watched his surging, stark form ascend the steep incline and vanish behind at top of the island._

_Rey wasn’t sure why the compulsion to tear up proved so overbearing, but she succumbed, plummeting to her knees and crying for what felt like an Age. She wept for the parents who had handed her off as a child, for the loss of Han Solo, for the hard-blowing fall from grace that was Luke Skywalker, and for all of poor General Organa’s misplaced hopes in someone whom she should have had every confidence to believe might save her son from Darkness: her twin brother._

_Most of all, she wept for what ultimately had propelled Ben Solo into rebirthing himself as Kylo Ren. It hadn’t all been Snoke’s master manipulation, after all, but Master Luke’s doing as well. He had a responsibility in turning his nephew to the Dark Side, and the sickening awareness of that left Rey feeling galled and cheated._

How could he let it happen? _Rey questioned, incensed, until she was on the verge of mental and physical exhaution, seeking resolution from the stars overhead._

_Alas, they were silent._

_Luke Skywalker, a Jedi whom she, like so many others, revered, who had gone to the greatest depths possible to save a father he had barely known, apparently hadn’t thought twice about killing his own nephew._

How?

* * *

_Ben took the longest, most treacherous route across the island, no intentions in mind but one: to recede._

_He had anticipated that the time to act upon his choice, which, really, was damning either way, would soon come, but he had fully expected to face it alone. It was grossly clear on that cliff, however, to the point that Ben had been momentarily left numb, that Rey had become too involved and mixed up in his personal Seeking Absolution Baggage._

_Did the poor girl know that his return to the Light would involve sacrifices; that it could never amount to much outside of, perhaps, the ultimate giving of his life? (Rey, Ben fiercely determined, should receive no more disappointments that might bear his name…and this was one of them.) As such, he already bore as much accountability in the attachment Rey had formed to his person as she apparently had, also, been mistakenly free to make on her own._

That didn’t stop you, did it?

_He had set them both up for failure, and wasn’t that just like Ben Solo’s lot in life? He had been pusillanimous, unable to stop himself from relating to her—to letting slip his sad cravings for the same companionship and sanctuary most managed to find in other people—and to her sweet faith and ferocious goodness, Ben had fallen. He had acted a coward. And to what end but to pitifully flee from himself?_

Yes. You _are_ a coward.

 _He liked Rey. In fact, if his deprived, blackened heart was capable of feeling_ anything _anymore, and Ben Solo’s heart, at least, still beat—and bleed—solely outside of its nemesis’ desires for supremacy and power, he cared for Rey far more than he had ever so much as ‘liked’ anyone._

Almost.

_Sure, he had liked his dad…sometimes, preferably when the fabled smuggler wasn’t avoiding his parental duties or making snide, ill-thought comments to Ben’s mother about their son’s mark for Darkness. Yes, such painful expressions had been bred out of naked ignorance rather than lack of compassion and Ben understood that now; but even at that worrisome time in the young boy’s life when a father figure was instrumental, Han Solo had struggled with the emotional compartments of fatherhood. An awkward pat on the back or a shifty, upset grimace was about all he could communicate to Ben to show that he cared when far more was needed of him._

_He had liked his mother more so, though, ultimately, she hadn’t put him first and, instead, placed the welfare of the galaxy above her son. For years, she wouldn’t so much as acknowledge the problematic patterns in Ben that had been there since well before his birth and, for which, the princess was quite familiar: that Dark Side that lay in her father, Darth Vader, a man whom Leia adamantly denied acknowledgement of as a part of her own bloodline. Ben had thought that heartless and absurd of her, but she couldn’t be convinced to take a closer look. Rather, she examined Ben through rose-tinted lenses, determined to see him overcome what she considered ‘new’ Darkness that had made its home in his bones from infancy, refusing to glance beneath the surface to how deep those troubled waters truly ran in their lineage._

_Yes, he liked Rey. She wasn’t frightened of his powers—at least, not anymore—and had no interest in controlling him either, unlike everyone else had in his miserable life. Most astonishing of all, she didn’t want to see him dead, and there was something awfully honourable (as well as devastatingly foolish) in that blunder of a disposition. Her endearing naiveté only wished to better understand him and, to that end, too, she should be commended, though Ben might think the whole principle wasted on him._

_Kylo Ren was a barbarian, after all, fashioned from the ashes of Ben Solo, and Ben was a name he wasn’t quite certain he had the right to carry or answer to anymore. He had suffocated it long ago. His uncle only spoke it now out of a relentless hope to be pardoned for expelling it from him whilst Rey addressed him by the name for no valid reason other than, he supposed, for recalling the young, soft-spoken lad who had cared for her when she was orphaned: a friend._

_But was he Ben Solo once more? The stars seemed to have ordained it as so, what with how the weather had reacted as soon as Rey acknowledged his princely bloodline; his call home._

_Home._

_For an excruciatingly long time, Ben Solo had been an hour by hour, second by second internal battle warring inside of him, trying to wiggle itself back into existence the moment Kylo Ren was birthed. Yes, he would_ _answer to that name now, mostly because it was what his company wanted to call him, but that didn’t make Ben Solo a real, tangible thing…did it?_

Rey believes. _And what a petrifying thought it was to see that belief, bright and illuminating in the scavenger’s beautiful, warm eyes, upon that cliff an hour ago._ Mom believes. Dad did, too…before you took his…

_Ben shook his head and inhaled deeply. How could he possibly be expected to save the galaxy when he couldn’t save himself?_

No… Rey’s too pure of heart—a perilous shortcoming, no doubt—to consider that she might be wrong.

_Rey was a spitfire in a spiralling, dark world; a beacon where there were no others to be found._

Yes… You _do_ like her. _He snorted._ Who the hell wouldn’t, least of all an ugly, Hutt-spawn brute such as yourself?

_The pesky creases along Ben’s brow and around his mouth, formed long before they ever should have appeared on such a robust, young man, sunk deeper as he trekked over ancient stumps and overgrown brush. Each step was lost and without purpose, his energy toiling, spiking, and flailing to grasp and crush; to seek and destroy. That had been the only skill he had ever really perfected in his short life: to wreck everyone and everything he loved, including his own good name, though, of course, attempting to love oneself when you were Ben Solo was a most impossible task._

_Ben stumbled onto a clearing where the forest broke away and the rolling landscape opened. The stars, too, were brightest from this vantage point._

_Here, Ben stopped. This spot had served as his and Rey’s suitable lightsaber training grounds for the past seven or eight weeks, but its familiarity wasn’t what halted him dead in his tracks. Rather, a remote, beige-cladded figure standing at the centre of it all brought him to a standstill._

_Ben didn’t move, and neither did Master Luke. The Jedi’s arms hovered at his sides, his brown cloak swaying at the ankles. The light breeze that passed between them whispered of ominous thoughts, past hurts, and unforgotten wrongdoings._

_Master Luke hadn’t come to this spot to meditate; he had been waiting for Ben. Kylo. Whichever identity was to be his chosen path._

_Ill-prepared to confront that now, Ben stalked ahead, with the aim of passing by his uncle unprovoked. The old man wasn’t on his radar this evening, and he wasn’t about to be bothered with such emotional difficulties._

When will you _ever_ be ready? _a voice, faraway but achingly remembered, questioned, stalling Ben’s gait._

_The igniting of a lightsaber was what ultimately halted Ben’s efforts to get away. His shoulders hunched, his body instantly put on the defence. His uncle’s lightsaber hummed, much like the drumming of a reckoning yet to be realised._

“ _Come to finish what you started, Uncle?” Ben snipped, unable to prevent his tongue from piercing the needle a little farther into Master Luke’s wrestling shame and ire. He had always had a proclivity towards wounding others when it was, in fact,_ he _who was bleeding out._

“ _It seems I continue to underestimate you, Ben,” Master Luke replied slowly, not yet rising to the bait._

_Ben sneered. “It’s your greatest weakness.”_

“ _That it may be, but I’m here to confront it, nonetheless.”_

_With the raise of an eyebrow, Ben flung the hood of his cloak back to reveal the hauntings he had long borne openly (when his mask didn’t act as a convenient camouflage) and extracted his own crossguard saber from its halter. Its flaming, hot red crystals tremored at his summoning, an abnormal reaction that heightened his charging energy. He made to ignore its faulty awakening and pursue the proposed attack._

“ _I suppose this_ is _long overdue,” Ben suggested, the threat in his conveyance holding space and weight between them, though Master Luke’s frown was indicative of something else._

“ _I don’t_ want _to fight you, Ben, but—”_

“ _Sure you don’t,” Ben scoffed, the Darkness flanking him at both sides, freshly alight and thirsting for familial blood._

“— _but your hold over Rey stops here.”_

“‘ _Hold’?” Ben blinked, dark eyes glowing like two orbs no longer entrenched in shadow. “What are getting at, old man?”_

_Master Luke’s demeanour was cool but resolute. “You know of what I speak.”_

_Ben’s cheeks seeped with richer colour and he had never been quite so grateful for the night’s cover, particularly when his mask was not on hand. “I hold no sway over your precious Padawan.” He added, with snark, “A Padawan whom_ you _made the mistake of lying to.”_

“ _I was trying to protect her from more heartache.”_

“ _By denying her the truth. That’s_ your _botched up_ _method for dealing with hardship, not a Jedi’s.”_

“ _You lied to her, too, Ben,” Master Luke cautioned. “You wiped her memories.”_

 _A weight pressed on Ben’s chest. “She’s at liberty to make whatever decisions she chooses. Don’t blame_ me _for_ your _defects in not successfully brainwashing her into what to think and how to behave. That comes down to_ your _lack of ability to manipulate people anymore.”_

“ _You have no right to interfere with her training, Ben!” For the first time since his arrival on the island, Ben detected a twinge of fury rising in the even-tempered Jedi. “You have no place influencing her!”_

“ _I’ve done no such thing,” Ben barked back, heels digging into the loose mud at his feet._

“ _I know you, Ben,” Master Luke whispered; Ben sensed the invisible bind to which they were connected, for better or for worse, and felt its cruel sting, “better than you know yourself.”_

“ _Another one of your over-confidences,” Ben growled, pounding his boots into the dirt, and was appeased by Master Luke’s visible tick. “You haven’t known me properly my entire life, dear_ uncle _.”_

_He sensed Master Luke’s Force sensibilities stepping back from the fight, but there was no peace here. No master nor turned student claiming defeat, so Ben held tight to the handle of his saber whilst his uncle’s eyes sought his, in search of the younger boy whom he had renounced years ago._

_Ben’s upper lip curled back, at the ready. “Shall we?”_

_Master Luke’s mouth formed a delicate shape. “Ben, I…”_

“ _What did you think would happen here?”_

_Master Luke gave no reply. It seemed that he had hoped to reach an accord without resorting to a fight, and yet, gradually, his grip on his lightsaber tightened, illustrating his resign to the family feud, a significant movement that coaxed Ben into action. This night would result in resolution, further shame, or death. Perhaps death, Ben reasoned, was most appropriate to, at last, put an end to the Skywalkers’ endless cycle of destruction and heartache._

_Ben charged first, sprinting as fast as his well-built legs could fly, and swung his saber wide, its full tilt landing inches from Master Luke’s face. One of the crosses nearly lacerated the elder man’s ear but he darted sideways to avoid the strike._

_Master Luke twisted at the waist to catch Ben off kilter from the side, but Ben raised his saber in time to meet the hit, blood red colliding with blinding blue. The stars above burnt on, dazzling in their brilliance and flashing in their conflict, whilst the trees mourned in long, drawn out moans. The air was alive with revolving Darkness and Light, each striving for the upper hand; to obliterate once and for all._

_Master Luke rammed Ben’s explosive energy, shoving him backward with more might than Ben anticipated given his years; but he recovered well, shuffling his feet several meters to the right and swooping in for three more thrashes, each one blocked by his uncle’s lightsaber. The second and third proved barely recoverable, however, and Master Luke’s legs stumbled at the sheer force issued behind Ben’s impacts to bring him down._

_The next swing cost the experienced Jedi, for his shaking, raised arm failed to keep the end of Ben’s saber from nicking him on the neck. The cut drew blood, though not enough to cause fatal damage. Master Luke flinched in pain and threw a hand over the injury, struggling to meet the several harder blows that followed after it._

_Upon the fourth or fifth hit, Master Luke’s body exhausted itself. He crashed onto his knees and, shaken, stared up at what would surely be his executioner, crushed and afraid and accepting of his fate all at once. The harrowing image that spun before him, which he reckoned would be his last, was that of Ben’s crossguard saber driving fluidly through the air and coming down to shave his head clear from his body. He braced himself for the end, the echo of Ben’s battle cry piercing his eardrums as it drew near; as the saber steered straight towards him…and then abruptly missed its attainment._

_Master Luke’s eyes chanced a blink and then another. Startlingly, miraculously, he was still alive, his beating heart never more present than at that pivotal moment. Ben hadn’t run him through, but he was no less at his nephew’s mercy, as the saber hovered in mid-air, uncomfortably close to Master Luke’s jaw, though it would not lower._

_He stole a glance at Ben. Above, Ben’s Darkness whirled, whispering of sins to commit and lives to take, whilst, below, like a man set to be crucified, Master Luke held his breath. How could all of his assiduous efforts to see balance restored crumble a second time, with the final chest move that of his nephew set to sever every family lifeline? Han had failed in turning his son’s heart, now he was failing Ben once again, and in the sequence of passion and pain that passed by Master Luke’s eyes, he detected deep, resounding resentment, untamed rage, and, louder than the first and second, the meagre, wistful cries of a lonely boy begging to be relieved of his plight._

_Master Luke reacted. He jammed his lightsaber forward and split a piece of fabric at Ben’s shoulder open, the tip of the saber penetrating the skin. Ben reared back, caught off his guard, but met Master Luke’s next swing, though his wobbly footing betrayed him, too. He slipped on the mud and hit the ground hard on his back. Dirt splattered everywhere, hitting him in the eyes, and for the first time ever, his crossguard saber dislodged out of his hand. The saber had never denounced him before and Ben started, speechless._

_He was defenceless. He stared up at his uncle, wide-eyed, the smell of death palpable and, oddly, welcoming as Ben lay splayed upon the soft, unbeaten earth, his sights towards the twinkling heavens. He didn’t attempt to raise his arms and protect himself but watched, with unmasked wonderment, as Master Luke’s lightsaber rose behind his head and then barreled towards him, its stupendous speed a thing of wild, unmatched beauty._

_The rumble of another voice, as well as another lightsaber colliding with Master Luke’s before it could smother its target, suddenly overshadowed Ben’s view of the sky. It took a couple seconds for him to recognise the outline of Rey, crouched over him and squaring off against her famed teacher._

“ _If you kill him,” she snarled, and her delivery was foreign to both men, yet stirring in its soundness and protective streak, “you forfeit our greatest chance of success at winning this war! You also forfeit_ any _chance of earning my forgiveness, Leia’s, or Ben’s!”_

“ _Rey,” Master Luke gasped, his voice quivering slightly, “I wasn’t…”_

“Stand. Down. _“_

_That command was about as effective and authoritative as Ben had ever heard, including those from greater figures whom he had encountered in his lifetime, such as a most esteemed Supreme Leader of the First Order or, to the opposite end, a fierce general leading her ranks against all who trampled on their democracy. Master Luke evidently thought so, too, for he stepped aside, held his lightsaber at a distance, and hung his head._

_Rey whirled around and shoved a hand in Ben’s face. Having expected to greet Death and, hopefully, eternal peace seconds beforehand, a stunned Ben shakily accepted the gesture, the faintest of trembles shooting through his and Rey’s fingertips when they touched. Heat and tranquillity and Light—Light, above all else—flowed through their veins, rapt to hold the connection unbroken._

_Despite her small stature, Rey helped heave Ben to his feet (though it was more his physical strength that saw him rising at all). Their gazes fastened to each other for the briefest moment, self-assurance etched onto Rey’s determined face._

_By the time Ben and Rey had shifted their sights onto Master Luke, his lightsaber had been discharged and was dangling at his side. His blue eyes were rueful and beseeching, mostly towards Rey, and she spoke up in rapid succession before he could so much as breathe a word._

“ _This is_ not _how we end things,” she chided and, too, disengaged from the fight by turning off her lightsaber._

_The silence that enfolded on the scene was stifling. “I… I wasn’t…” Master Luke wrestled to explain, surrendering to a hard, aggravated sigh._

_Rey turned to Ben, conveying without the need for words her desire to speak to the shame-faced Jedi alone. Ben granted her wish, offered a parting nod to her alone, and stalked off towards the hut, his strides ruffled but assuaged. The last look he gave his uncle before departing was one of bitter tolerance and Master Luke, though disheartened, felt entirely unfit to call after him._

_Once Ben’s footsteps were a considerable distance away and no longer detectable to their ears, Master Luke stressed, “He’s deeply troubled.”_

_Rey didn’t so much as rattle. “Aren’t we all?”_

_Master Luke’s hardened expression went unchanged. “His demons are far more detrimental than you think, Rey.”_

“ _And he’s tamed them a lot since he first came here, hasn’t he?”_

_Her supposedly sagacious teacher shook his head. “Anger, revenge, betrayal… These are the motives that drive him.”_

“ _That drove Kylo Ren, you mean,” Rey corrected him._

_Master Luke stilled, a long-held pain surfacing on his face. “I wanted him to turn as badly as you did, Rey, but…”_

“‘ _Did’?” Rey pushed, not backing down._

 _Master Luke swallowed, resisting the urge to speak for a couple moments. Then he confessed, his register heavy, “I fear he_ is _lost.”_

“ _Because of some mysterious grip you think he has over me?” she snipped, eyes narrowed into slits._

_Master Luke rebuffed her scolding look by admiring the wet ground. “Yes, I confess, I thought he was starting to have an influence on you…”_

“ _Well, he doesn’t!” She pinned her master in place with the drastic flare in her temper once their eyes re-met. “I can make up my own bloody mind about people, thank you, and I believe in him. You should, too, unless…”_ _There was a short pause that carried with it a gut-wrenching, sinking sensation. Then Rey choked out, “Unless you never did.”_

_Master Luke gazed at his Padawan as though she had struck him across the face. “I did! I mean, I do—”_

“ _Then_ why _?” she lashed out, managing to suppress a sob lodged at the back of her throat. “Why’d you do it?”_

“ _Rey…”_

“ _You pushed him to it!_ YOU _!”_

“ _I saw the Darkness in him,” Master Luke argued, desperate-sounding and despairing at the same time. “Snoke had turned him! I was too late!”_

“Rubbish _!” Rey spat between clenched teeth. “Snoke may have already sunk his teeth into Ben and claimed him, but_ you _gave him the final push!_ You did it _!”_

_Master Luke went quiet and still, eyes watery and downtrodden. It was a lengthy while before he said, in a hoarse-like whisper, “I did…and I’m deeply ashamed of it. I’ve had to live with my regret all these years…”_

“ _Yet, you_ still _repel the probability that Ben’s our hope for the future,” Rey countered, her anger continuing to climb._

 _Master Luke kept silent, though the wheels were evidently turning behind the teary eyes. Eventually, he claimed,_ _“He fell once… He can fall again.”_

 _Rey would have thrown her lightsaber at the old man’s head had she the maniacal wherewithal in her, and for a second, her arm itched to do so. Perhaps, it was the only way to knock some sense into him. “So can_ you _, Master,” she argued instead. “So can I; so can any of us.” She sucked in a breath, seeking calmness. “Belief is what sustains us at our weakest. Don’t be weak, Master. Not now. Ben needs you. He needs_ us _. He can’t do this alone.”_

 _Master Luke’s face flounced between surprise and being moved, though he didn’t speak in favor of either persuasion. Rey took those glimpses as the Jedi’s compliance. For now. She was still peeved at him, naturally, but her Force energy had, at least, pacified and she willed it to cool some more._ _She turned her back on Master Luke, leaving him to bask in dishonour and reproach, and headed for the hut._

 _Her conviction could no longer be shaken, and the stars in the night sky seemed to share the credence Rey had theorised—and wept over—earlier that night: Ben Solo_ was _their last hope. Without him, their future—the Resistance, freedom, the Light—was doomed._

‘ _I_ will _help him,’ she avowed to herself, ‘I swear it.’_

_She headed for the hut with her head held high; she headed for home._


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : As always, thank you to those who review and leave kudos, for engagement is what helps to push this story along. Otherwise, this is all fairly pointless. **
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 21**

_“Hope is the thing with feathers_

_That perches in the soul_

_And sings the tune without the words_

_And never stops at all.”_

―Emily Dickinson

* * *

_Rey awoke to the loud rumbling of a ship flying overhead. It began to power down from what sounded like mere feet from hers and Ben’s hut, its exhaust stirring up a wind funnel that fluttered the curtains and batted her hair._

_Rey shot up in bed and pried her eyes open, squinting at the blinding sunlight that poured in through a small window in the room she and Ben had come to share. Well, technically the room was still_ his _, but over the past several weeks, she had somehow converted it into a communal space for two. As far as she could tell, Ben didn’t mind. He hadn’t tempted her into doing anything more outside of snuggling, too, which her touch-starved but nerve-ridden soul was abated by. She enjoyed burrowing herself into the man’s thick chest or against the giant curve of his back each night—desperately so, in fact—and hoped (rather foolishly, she suspected) that the nights would never end._

_Beside her, Ben’s limp form stirred beneath the covers but didn’t rise as she had. He grumbled inaudible utterances into his pillow that sounded like curse words, sighed, and chose—at least, for the moment—_ not _to investigate whomever was making an obnoxiously ear-splitting ruckus in trying to land their aircraft on un-solid soil. Apparently, sleep was a far more enticing alternative and Ben hadn’t received much of it since well before—or after—arriving on Ahch-To nor had his mind and body been spared much respite in the past few days since his second near fatal confrontation with Uncle Luke._ _Thus, his eyes remained decidedly shut._

_Ben and Master Luke were barely on speaking terms as it were, with Rey acting as the natural go-between a vindicated nephew and a wrongfully behaving uncle. Making eye contact over meals or during lessons in recent days was trying an effort enough, particularly for the elder Jedi, who spent most moments bowing his head in silence and wearing his shame openly._

_Ben wasn’t interested in an apology. He hadn’t gotten one as a teenager, ripped apart by the Darkness battling for dominance over his conflicted soul, which he had thought (wrongfully) needed help in being tamed, so why would he expect one now? An expression of regret from his uncle was as critical to him as the falsehood he had come to wear in adulthood: utterly pointless._

_Recognising the sound of the engine before it fully shut off, Rey threw back the thread-bare blanket and hopped into her boots, straining to keep quiet as she hastily readied herself for the day. The sudden emptiness beside him, at last, goaded Ben to roll over and force open an eyelid to inquire after her retreat._

_“What are you doing?” he mumbled, ending that question with a strangled yawn that he made to conceal behind his hand._

_“He’s here!” she squeaked rather unhelpfully, her energy buzzing with excitement and anticipation._

_Ben lowered his arm, sounding shattered as he pressed her softly, “Who?”_

_“Chewie! For the Resistance! He’s come to take us back!”_

_Affording no further time for explanations, Rey tore out of the room, tossing aside the curtain as she exited. Her footsteps bounded across the next two rooms as she made for the door._

_In slow motion Ben rose onto his elbows, a firm crease stuck between his troubled eyes. He stayed perfectly still, his chest hardly rising and falling for the next crucial heart-pounding moments. ‘_ Take us back _‘? he wondered, his mind filling with all sorts of fresh questions, mostly to abate the bile that was climbing out of the pit of his stomach._

Chewie.

_He hadn’t laid proper eyes on the Wookie in what had to have been, at least, twelve or thirteen years. Chewie had been one of the last to wish him well before his parents had brought him to Ahch-To to train with Uncle Luke, and their parting had been a teary one. Chewie had practically suffocated Ben when they hugged and said their goodbyes, and it had taken Ben days following that heartbreaking farewell to realise, rather too late, how much the Wookie had meant to him._

_He hadn’t found much company in the form of young friendships growing up. As a burdened loner who had difficulty opening up to others about his struggles, Chewie had been one of the few to push past Ben’s emotional barriers. He had also been one of the most constants in the boy’s life when he craved stability the most._ _Whereas his father had failed to engage him in conversation or proper bonding time, Chewie had regularly intervened, and not really at Han’s behest but on his own. He encouraged Ben to help him fix faulty bits from the Falcon when Han was home, kept Ben away from his parents when their rows grew too heated, and pushed to converse with the sensitive boy on whatever topics suited his fancy._

_The Wookie may not have been trained in the ways of the Force, but he possessed the heightened sensibility of perceiving Ben’s isolation, as well as the obstacles that so deeply divided and separated his best mate from his outcasted, misunderstood son, and had tried to nurture Ben where Han Solo couldn’t._

_Ben fought back the sudden instinct to retch. What would Chewie think now that Ben Solo had committed the ultimate vice? He had heard Chewie’s blood-curdling cry on the bridge of the oscillator that fateful day he had impaled his father’s body, sinking his saber deep into Han’s chest and crushing his vertebrae, slicing a hole through his back; but he hadn’t glimpsed much of Chewie with his own eyes._ _That, he considered a mercy, for hearing the Wookie’s gutteral wails in his head night after night as he relived the nightmare that was his most unforgivable act was harrowing enough, though no less than Ben reckoned he deserved._

_A stinging pang from a recovering laceration on Ben’s side, where Chewie had struck him with his bowcaster following Han’s death, had him suddenly clutching the wound in pain. He shuddered and flinched, inhaling much-needed breaths in and out of his trapped lungs. Slowly, the sensation passed._

_Hearing the soft commotion outside, Ben mechanically rose from the comfort of his mattress but hesitated to move from there. There was nothing soothing about how_ this _unforeseen encounter was about to pan out and Ben was certain he wasn’t prepared to face another heartache of his own creation._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

“I’ll have to check our clearance records.”

“Oh, _c’mon_ , sweetheart,” Blaze crooned to the unremarkable female droid stationed at the weaponry department’s expansive front desk. He leaned forward so as to block a proper view of the durasteel exit doors at his back, mask removed to showcase his devilish smile and a set of pearly white teeth. Beside him, Chewie groaned and rolled his eyes, fiddling against his restraints. “It’s just a couple blasters; maybe some stun guns? I’m sure the Proclamation can spare a handful for my Stormtroopers. We’ve had issues with the clips malfunctioning.”

“ _Like I said_ ,” the droid stressed, clearly agitated with Blaze’s pestering, her mechanical head spinning from side to side so as to keep her laser vision focused on the dominating, though handcuffed, Wookie, “you need special clearance for that, Officer Creed. Do you have your station card or an access code?”

Blaze—Creed, rather, as he was known in this menacing place—propped his chin in his hand and hummed through purposely pouty lips, “I seem to have lost them.”

“It’s standard protocol to obtain access,” the droid insisted none too kindly. “I can’t provide you what you want without it.”

“You can’t fiddle things for me just this _once_ , Sparky?” Blaze tried to bargain with her, subtly kicking Chewie at his side for a reaction. “We have prisoners, such as _this_ carpeted monstrosity, to keep a handle on. My troopers need blasters and stun guns that actually _function_ against these types—”

With a sudden colossal howl that resounded around the room, Chewie threw up his hairy arms and began clomping his feet. His paws pounded the top of the desk, leaving impressive dents in the steel. The droid named Sparky’s head spun ’round and ’round in fright. She rolled back from her computer screen, using her wheels for legs, and yelped, robotic arms raised to shield herself from a blow.

“ _See what I mean_?” Blaze screamed, leaping to seize Chewie’s bounded wrists that hovered just out of reach. “Can I get an access code? _Now, Sparky_!”

The droid didn’t need Blaze to beg her a tenth time. She stretched her left arm to the opposite side of her desk and, at rapid speed, punched a series of cryptic numbers into their computer system. Seconds later the protected doors to the weaponry storage unit flew open, kicking up sparks and steam, an added bonus as the droid was too distracted by the flailing Wookie to see who had crouched by and slipped past her surveillance, undetected.

“ _Quiet, sleemo_!” Blaze barked, at last, managing to grab Chewie’s handcuffs. He lowered them as well, though testy Chewie’s continued griping saw him keeping a slight distance. “We’ll be but a moment, Sparky,” Blaze assured the shaken droid as he made to yank Chewie towards the now accessible weaponry. He had no influence in getting Chewie to budge, however, and it was after several agonising moments that Chewie complied and walked of his own accord beyond the sealed doors, huffing in annoyance as he went along with Blaze’s plan.

Once the doors slammed shut, leaving Blaze and Chewie alone, Blaze descended on the Wookie in a fit of indignation, spitting under his breath, though no one was lingering about to overhear, “You could have gone along with that a _lot_ easier, you know!”

“ _Narrrggghhgghh_!” Chewie screeched at his accuser and bore his teeth. He halted in his tracks, turned on Blaze, and roughly shoved him backward.

The Resistance spy shrunk under the Wookie’s seven foot shadow. “You can say whatever you want, Chewie, but I had my orders!” At Chewie’s raging rant and stormy glare, he stammered, looking terribly sheepish all the while, “Not everyone carries the same blind faith in Ben Solo that you, his wife, and his mother do, _all right_? We’ve had to ensure that he’s—”

Evidently, Chewie was disinterested in hearing anymore of Blaze’s excuses. He jabbed him harder this time, exercising minimal physical force, but it carried enough power to fling the black-chromed Stormtrooper back into a stack of hung weaponry three feet behind him. Blaze toppled to the floor, sending blaster rifles tumbling off their shelves and onto the ground with a crash. They scattered and dispersed, including the Resistance member’s precious mask.

“Chewie!” came Rey’s shocked exclamation as she dashed towards them from another direction, with Han and Astrid close at her heels. Each of the Solos was now arrying a handful of stolen weapons, from blaster rifles to Rey’s reclaimed lightsaber to a small pistol which Astrid nervously held between her clenched, tiny fingers. “What’s happened?”

“Perhaps _you_ can control that thing,” Blaze puffed as he hobbled to stand, wincing and pointing at Chewie, “before he gets us all killed!”

“Serves you right!” Han spat and stepped closer to Chewie, offering steadfast support for the beloved Wookie.

“Your tampering into my husband’s painstaking undercover efforts may do just _that_ ,” Rey, too, countered the penitent Stormtrooper, with an effectively cutting coolness that put an end to the argument.

Blaze went quiet, a frustrating blush lighting his cheeks. He watched, in a harsh silence, as Rey tossed two pistols and three hand grenades to Chewie, who hooked them onto his belt and whined obligingly. Then the Wookie pulled young Han into a protective position against his hip, he and the young boy refusing to take their beady eyes off of Blaze.

Ignoring the fraudulent Stormtrooper another moment, Rey bunched up her clothing to tuck a blaster into her back and knelt down before her daughter. She touched Astrid’s small shoulder, her tranquil energy transferring from mother to youngest, whose innocent eyes looked very much in need of consoling.

“Astrid, sweetie, remember how I showed you to use this?”

The girl’s endearing countenance was a radical alteration to the deadly weapon she held in her hand, its pistol aimed (thankfully) towards the ceiling. “Yes, Mummy,” she answered sweetly, making the contrast all the more impactful on everyone present.

“Good girl.”

Rey added a squeeze to Astrid’s shoulder and fervently kissed her forehead. She started to rise when another one of her daughter’s wholesome inquiries kept her close.

“We going to save Ami and Daddy now, Mummy?”

“Yes, little star,” Rey answered, half stumbling over the words, for her heartbeat was busily skipping with dread. “We _will_ get them back, I promise.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Han pressed impatiently, bringing everyone back to the risky task at hand. He slapped his rifle blaster to his chest but then thought better of it, redirecting it at Blaze instead. “After _you_ ,” he proposed, with gusto.

Blaze, though somewhat flustered, obeyed. He stalked towards them but jolted at the unanticipated launch of his mask suddenly speeding towards him. He fumbled to catch it in his hands, realising that that had been Rey’s doing by way of the Force, and skittishly placed it back on his head. He knew of the Solos’ exceptional gift for mind reading and was certain Rey might deck him if she uncovered his present thoughts.

Chewie’s restraints, too, which Blaze had administered for their mission, were dismantled, wordlessly unlocked by way of Rey’s Force powers. They fell to the floor, leaving the Wookie free to move about as he pleased. Blaze sucked in a nervous breath and wrapped a cautious hand around Chewie’s free arm, waiting on the Wookie to toss him into another stack of weapons. When the expectancy passed by unfulfilled, he motioned the family towards the exit doors.

“Just…go along with this, _please_ ,” he implored them all but mostly Chewie, who growled by way of a response.

Such Wookie language didn’t sound reassuring but Blaze now knew better than to question him. Together, he and Chewie led the way back in the direction from whence they had come, each step speedy and purposeful. They had but turned a corner and spotted the durasteel doors at the end of the corridor when, all of a sudden, a robotic, frantic-sounding voice alerted them that they were no longer alone.

“Hey! _YOU_! Just where do you think you’re go—?”

That was as far as the weaponry service droid got in questioning the intruders, for it was blasted and smashed into a dozen pieces against a wall, its compartments spewing everywhere and causing a commotion that bounded around the storage unit for seconds after it crashed. It took everyone another nerve-wracking moment to realise that it had been Astrid who had shot the droid. The five-year old turned to Chewie, Han, and, lastly, her mother, somewhat paralysed by her own instinctive, quick-thinking reflexes.

“Well done, Astrid!” Rey encouraged the little one, reaching out to lightly tousle her hair.

“ _This isn’t over_!” Han shouted, startling them all.

Rey spun around just as Han’s blaster rifle went off, administering a handful of bullets towards three new targets, all droids, who had gathered in front of the doors. Blaze, too, extracted his blaster rifle and began shooting at random, with four more suddenly appearing to apprehend them.

The doors opened at the shifting movement of collapsing droids in front of it, pushing the family and Blaze forward towards their desired way out. Chewie sprung ahead of them and smashed Sparky into fragments before the frightened droid could so much as holler for help. Her misshapen head and body ignited with sparks, buzzed, and then went motionless.

“ _Hurry_!” Blaze instructed over his shoulder, springing into a run that the rest of the Solos and Chewie copied. “More will be on their way! Make for the elevators!”

Chewie and Han followed closely behind, with Rey and Astrid bringing up the rear. Rey’s hand was clasped tightly in her daughter’s, Astrid’s small feet barely scraping the floor as they made a frenzied break for it.

_Hang on_ , Rey transmitted to Ben, sensing his rising panic from somewhere many levels above them. She couldn’t sense Ami’s Force sensitivities much at all but called out to her as well, one determined aim in mind. _We’re on our way!_

* * *

_“Tracked through lightspeed?_ How _?”_

_Chewie muttered the elaborate scope to Rey and Master Luke in Wookie that kept the Padawan’s jaw lowered in suspense and the Jedi thoughtfully stroking his grey beard. At the end of his account, Chewie gave a weighty, serious shake of his head and gruffly exhaled._

_Although Master Luke continued to stare off over Chewie’s shoulder, stricken by, as of yet, unexpressed musings, a gradual smile spread across Rey’s face in contrast. “Well, I’m happy to see you again, Chewie,” she admitted and was soon smothered by another one of the Wookie’s compact hugs that levitated her off of the ground. Once he let her free, Rey added, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d all forgotten us.”_

_Amused, Chewie patted the top of Rey’s head a little too roughly. She winced but laughed and playfully swiped his enormous paw away._

_“‘Us’?” Master Luke repeated, the grating in his voice dulling the warmth and fuzziness of Rey’s and Chewie’s reuniting._

_“Yes,” Rey cautioned, turning her gaze sharply onto her now dubious-looking teacher, whose blue eyes slipped back and forth between her and Chewie, ambiguous and uncertain. “Leia and the whole Resistance are expecting your return. They’re counting on us.”_

_“But I never agreed to leave this place.”_

_Rey recoiled, eyebrows raised in shock. “_ What _?” she gasped._

_Chewie let forth an aggressive snarl that jerked both Rey and Master Luke. He launched forward as well, taking a flashing step closer to Master Luke, who threw up his hands in a heedful beseeching to keep the Wookie from, perhaps, throttling him into the dirt beneath his feet._

_“I don’t think Leia or you have thought this through, Chewie!” he tried to reason with them._

_“ARRRGGGGGHHH!” Chewie bellowed, his cries reverberating off of the rocks like thunder._

_“Yes, yes, I_ know _!” Master Luke agreed, yelling with equal fury. “But how do you figure this, Chewie: that Rey and I will, somehow, go waltzing onto Snoke’s ship and take down the whole First Order—”_

_“_ Ben _, too!” Rey hotly corrected him which brought the dispute to a pelting halt no one anticipated, least of all Chewie. Rey explained in brief, though somewhat hesitantly this time, “He’s with us.”_

_The stunted Wookie staggered backward at that long-ago name, his weight swaying from side to side, as though he had seen a ghost and was on the verge of a fainting spell. He whined and retreated further as Rey looked him over, first, apologetically and then with a glowing defensiveness that the Wookie had never seen in her before._

_Rey answered Chewie’s soft mewls, speaking as frankly but gently as possible, “He came to us some two months ago. I think he still believes his intent was to capture Master Luke but… He really came to save himself, Chewie. He’s returned. Ben’s coming home.”_

_Chewie shuffled his feet back and forth, glancing, with discomfort, from Rey to Master Luke to the ancient stones at his feet. He repeated this pattern several times over until, eventually, he settled for hanging his head and brooding in Wookie, each small noise a cry for the slain smuggler whom he had loved and the unrecognisable beast, a one-time boy whom he had adored and helped raise, who had committed the unpardonable sin before his eyes._

_Rey reached out a hand to stroke Chewie’s arm. Her consolation was met by more pained, drawn out whimpers and quietly shed tears._

_“I know,” she counseled, hoping her words would strike a chord in the wounded Wookie, “and I’m sorry, Chewie, but…_ please _… Give Ben a chance. His defecting back to the Light is an enormous feat which we should all encourage and support. He’s our best hope.”_

_Those remarks tolled long and earnestly after, stretching like an elastic band. Chewie lifted his watery eyes to stare deeper into Rey’s, conflict written on his horribly sad face, and yet, there was no will to contest the Padawan’s strong words of support._

_Then Ben suddenly emerged from inside the stone hut, alarming all and looking every bit the corrupted, cruel mess that he had become: dark locks windblown, knotted, and grown past his neckline, protruding, seemingly permanent circles beneath his eyes that whispered of his many hauntings, disturbed, near moonless irises that guarded their wrongful deeds carefully, and the violent slash that traveled the length of his right cheek to the left side of his forehead, a sobering reminder of the Darkness inside of him that had been bested by love and Light._

_Ben and Chewie’s flighty gazes fuzed, their bodies tensing with agitation, fight and flight modes registered. Both were unmistakably ill at ease, Ben, perhaps, more so, and he was the first to stave from staring for too long. His uneasy eyes flounced to a resilient Rey, his unhinged uncle, and, lastly, the horizon, in search of a little less suffering to look upon; a little less confrontational grief._

_Imparting another brief glance to Chewie, Ben thought better of acknowledging his once dearly close confidant and, in a flurry, turned his back on the scene. Chewie’s boom of a roar—a murderous, thunderous howl that challenged the ocean’s furious clashes into the rocks surrounding the island—stopped Ben from venturing too far. His stance locked in place and wouldn’t—couldn’t, rather—turn around to face the source of such anguish nor run from it, so Ben kept his back facing the sun. His perceptive hearing alerted to the Wookie’s slow but calculated footsteps approaching from behind, suggestive of a stalker about to sniff out its victim and sink its teeth in before fully devouring._

_Yet, Ben knew he wasn’t the victim in this fight, however it may play out, and saw his shadow come to be appropriately swallowed by a far larger, much furrier one. Then the world was spinning on an axis and he was forcefully whirled about to meet his indignant accuser from childhood. His first instinct was to reach for his saber, but that saber was no longer dependable, as had been tested when he faced Master Luke days earlier._

_To compound matters, as soon as Ben reeled around, he realised that he couldn’t have summoned a weapon into his blood-stained hands had he actually wanted to protect himself._ No. _He deserved whatever pain was coming his way. He_ wanted _to feel that surge of burning fire rush over him, through him, and suffocate him out of existence, as he foresaw in his pursuer’s intentions. The agony would be recognisable, appropriate, and, at the very least, suitable in these final moments._

_Then Ben felt the first crushing blow, breathless and immense. Chewie knocked him four or five feet backward, though Ben managed to somehow maintain his footing, and that merely provoked Chewie’s distemper. The incensed Wookie hunted his target, stomping his feet into the dirt, with tempestuous eyes swirling with blood-boiling madness to reach Ben Solo and strike, strike, strike. His fist swooped forward from the side and struck Ben’s left cheek, its precision right and true. Ben’s jaw snapped at the impact._

_Somewhere in the distance Master Luke and Rey screamed, but Chewie, his breaths ragged and fierce, tread onward, whilst Ben stumbled backward but, nevertheless, tried to stand his ground. Chewie snatched Ben by the chin and snapped his head towards him. Ben met Chewie’s glare with burning obstinacy, his bruised cheek lightened by the bright sun._

_Disgusted, Chewie snarled and swung his fist again, this time at much closer range, and the collision fractured Ben’s nose with a swift, sickening_ crack _. Ben staggered and hitched a sharp intake of air, the foul taste of blood—his own—oozing into his mouth. He deposited a mouthful at the ground and, slowly but defiantly, brought his blazing stare back to his attacker, showing Chewie the remnants of his savage punch._

_Blood dribbled from Ben’s left nostril. He spit once more, all the while keeping his alighted stance steady on the Wookie. He wouldn’t provide the satisfaction of admitting to the pain, even at the hands—or paws, rather—of someone who rightfully deserved to witness such pleasure. Not now. Not at the very end._

_In that gripping, defining moment, Chewie hesitated, marked confusion forming along his hairy brow as to Ben’s unwillingness to fight back; or, at least, not throw up his hands and try to defend himself from blow after blow. It was a fleeting reconsideration of gauging his ‘enemy’ and his motives, but then Chewie made a rash decision: he lunged for Ben’s neck…and the one-time Sith in training’s Force sensibilities snubbed the warning they perceived coming, allowing Chewie’s gigantic paws to close around fragile muscle with substantial ease._

_Ben felt his feet leave the soiled ground, Chewie dangling him as the oxygen appropriately left his lungs as if through a straw. Ben’s instinct was to gasp and writhe for air, but his pride wouldn’t allow for that. Showing fear in the face of death was, perhaps, the ultimate weakness, and there was nothing to be afraid of anymore. Death, Ben prayed, might mean peace for himself and his tormented soul at long last._

_Despite his aptitude for remaining calm under even fatal pressures, Ben’s fingers began to tingle and convulse. Against his will, they latched onto Chewie’s wrists, which could have been easily broken had there been the intent to save himself, but, instead, Ben’s hands simply clung to them for something to purchase. He clawed uselessly at Chewie’s fur, his ribs tight and caving and desiring nothing but valuable air. That wish was brutally denied._

_For what felt like ages, Ben and Chewie stared into one another’s eyes, tragic foe to foe, skimming one another’s suffering that required no words. What sounded like Rey and Master Luke shouting and drawing nearer, each begging Chewie to “stop”, hovered at the edge of Ben’s peripheral sphere, now starting to dim and fog. Their demands felt like a dull, tireless ringing in his ears, so Ben ignored them in place of a certain pull towards tranquility; towards nothingness. Peace was in his grasp and its sweetness could no longer be bribed._

_Before Ben could lose all consciousness, there came an abrupt release, and Ben was suddenly falling towards gravity. His legs hit the ground hard and gave way, the uncomfortable pangs that flooded through them a trifle as compared to the rush of air that travelled through his wind pipes and nourished his lungs with their vital essence._

_The reach for Death vanished in the wake of what Ben was left with: a spine-tingling numbness that, whilst it no longer robbed him of oxygen, lingered above him like a dark cloud. He rolled onto his back and wheezed, his strenuously-working chest heaving. Each shaky inhale was like an unwanted clench to his heart._

_He wasn’t dead, and that wasn’t the worst of it. A great weight thudded inches from him, and it took Ben’s vision several seconds to clear and make out the outline of a crumbled Chewie moping at his side. The Wookie’s pained face was bowed towards the earth, his paws beating futilely at the grass. With each pounding, Chewie sobbed and rocked back and forth, uncertain of where to direct his heartbreak._

_The word was on the tip of Ben’s tongue and, as if Chewie could sense it, he snapped his head towards Ben. They stared, suspended by a shared silence. Ben swallowed what he had been on the verge of saying, and a teary-eyed, maddened Chewie reacted. He threw himself over top of Ben, snatched him by the shoulders, and began pummeling him over and over into the ground. All the while, Ben never fought the Wookie’s powerful pelting, and yet, with each violent thrash, the severity of it lessened, until Chewie was no longer thumping Ben but whimpering and pawing and clawing at him; to hold him; to be held._

_Finally, the Wookie desisted, having exhausted his energy beyond what his physicality—and heart—could bear. His miserable eyes bore into Ben’s, the despair therein reflected back through the eyes of an older, far more broken Ben Solo, and then Chewie lowered his head to Ben’s chest. He gripped him with all of his might and let forth a final, smothered wail before his cries turned pleading and helpless._

_One of Ben’s trembling hands glided to the back of Chewie’s head, fingers curling into the Wookie’s mound of thick fur. Neither one moved or attempted to speak, for no words—not even the most heartfelt, sincerest, ‘I’m sorry’—would have sufficed._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

After conversing in quick, hushed whispers with his right-hand lieutenant, who scurried out of the room as fast as he had entered, General Hux stepped forward to address the Supreme Leader, sweating but dripping with redeemed confidence, no less, which set Ben’s teeth on edge. He watched the smug ginger prat eagerly rub his gloved hands together, as if in anticipation of something glorious which Ben, himself, couldn’t glimpse through his Force gifts, though General Hux, at least, showed some restraint by waiting for Snoke to seat himself at his head throne first.

Once Snoke acknowledged the hopeful general using a small raise of his head, General Hux spoke to the echoing eeriness of the reformed Imperial throne room which had been expanded upon since its original design was destroyed during the fall of the First Order, and stated, with urgency, “Supreme Leader, I’ve just been informed that a band of Resistance fighters have passed through this solar system not two minutes ago. Shall we engage?”

“Don’t be too hasty, General Hux,” Snoke spoke unhurriedly, giving a passive wave of his bony wrist. “We have, at least, _three_ Force sensitive captives in our midst. Let us wait and see what General Organa’s intentions are. If she’s, indeed, circling to attempt a rescue, she’s a greater fool than I presumed. Those fighters can’t slip past our shields without immediate detection.”

“Yes, sir,” General Hux concurred, though a look of befuddlement washed over his pointy features at the mention of ‘three’ Force sensitives. His accusatory eyes glanced beyond his shoulder to a bowing Amidala, knelt into a tight ball upon the ground, with her long, sweeping locks hiding her face from proper study.

Snoke rested his back to his black ceremonial throne, high and expanding from all sides like a prickly shrub—a poisonous, soul-sucking one, according to Ben—and gestured to the closed doors at the opposite side of the room. “Go,” he curtly commanded. “See to our preparations.”

General Hux nodded appropriately at the vague order given and, without needing to be instructed twice, marched off, catching Ben’s slippery gaze, though hidden beneath his mask, as he swept past. That irritable, superior smile from the unbalanced general caused Ben’s darker, swirling energy to twist out of joint. It jerked and curled, vibrating with sudden hostility, though Ben issued all restraint in lashing out by balling his gloved hands tighter into fists.

Snoke, perceiving his commander’s forced self-discipline, awaited General Hux’s disappearance before casting attention to it. “You’re still ruffled, Commander. I’ve sensed your distress since my arrival.”

The air of suspicion surrounding that observance didn’t go unmarked. Ben’s stomach knotted as he made a slight raise of his head, the remainder of him entirely motionless and bent towards the floor. He had tried not to so much as breathe in Amidala’s direction since she was brought to the bridge earlier, and yet, as a father, it was quite possibly the hardest card he had ever been dealt.

“It’s nothing, Supreme Leader,” he lied through the guise of his voice contraption.

“No?” Snoke murmured, that tight whisper carrying through the space between master and apprentice like a bone-chilling awakening. “ _No_ …”

Ben, crippled by fear, shut himself off, feeling the outer most layers of his mind being breached as soon as the doors shut. Like a pair of intruding fingertips tapping at the front gates and demanding entrance, Ben knew the want for permission wasn’t necessary on the Supreme Leader’s part but, nonetheless, it wasn’t to be toyed with. Snoke was notorious for shoving his way into people’s minds whether they wished it or not and Ben understood better than to deny him access…lest he wish his brain to turn into mush.

Ben proposed a series of feigned, unquestionably dark thoughts he hoped would prove convincing. After a minute or two of allowing the psychopath to scan the outer rims of his mind, Ben chanced a glance at Snoke, hoping to find satisfaction lining the Supreme Leader’s grey face. Snoke’s eyes were shut, searching, examining, inquiring…

Then he breathed without much emotion, “She troubles you… This girl…”

Those same eyes, soulless and ruthless, opened and gravitated towards Amidala, who quivered as she willingly elevated her head. She didn’t dare look at her father but her eyes caught on one of his leather boots, close enough to reach for if she but stretched her hand.

“She reminds you…of _you_.”

At once, Ben tersely dropped his head. If it were possible for his ears to burst from the immense drumming of his own heartbeat, they were surely going to explode from this ordeal. He didn’t dare answer but his shoulders rolled.

Snoke reclined against his chair and disengaged from Ben’s mind, his scrutiny neither pleased nor miffed with whatever his apprentice had supplied. His intense focus alternatively shifted to Amidala.

“Come here, youngling. It’s high time you and I were properly introduced.”

Amidala startled and, though she bravely made eye contact with the creepy Sith from her nightmares, she refused to dislodge her knees from their contact with the cold, solid floor. Much to Ben’s horror, his eldest found herself being heaved forward completely of Snoke’s Force pull rather than of her own free will.

“I said, _closer_ ,” Snoke dictated, with a sallow grin that saw Amidala uttering the slightest breath as she was summoned. Ben heard his daughter’s small but vocalised terror and it caused a painful tightening in his jaw. “Yes…” One of Snoke’s feathery hands reached out to cradle Amidala’s chin, making every goose-pimple on the girl’s flesh rise. “You’re as stubborn as I suspected you might be. So tenacious… Yet, so artless… You don’t understand your own strength, my dear. _Yes_ … You need me. You’ve _wanted_ this for a long time.”

“N – No,” Amidala rebuffed, her declaration unstable and horrified by such a suggestion.

“Ah, denial,” Snoke scoffed so lightly and with such simplicity that it shot a chill through father’s and daughter’s spines alike. “My apprentice had that, too—he claimed not to want the gifts I had to offer him—and now… _Look at him_.”

Amidala, though quivering too badly to conceal her fright, half glanced over her shoulder but couldn’t quite see Ben’s kneeling silhouette. She clenched her teeth and struggled against Snoke’s mighty grip.

“He’s stronger thanks to _me_ ,” Snoke boasted, with shivering, derisive confidence that both unnerved and surprised his company, Ben most of all. “He lost his way at one time—oh, yes, I haven’t forgotten the treachery—but we’ve straightened him out. He’s seen the errors of his ways, he’s fought to earn back my trust, and, now, _you_ shall be set right, too.”

“I told you,” Amidala spat, writhing against her invisible restraints, her feet hovering inches from the ground, “I want no – nothing from you! _Nothing_!”

Snoke’s scowl lifted the hairs on the back of Ben’s neck. “That’s most…unfortunate,” he warned, his words quiet but sinister, “not to mention, _unwise_. Although, I suppose,” he tacked on, aged fingers coiling around Amidala’s neck, “the alternative is that I crush you now. Then I kill your mother, your brother, your sister…”

“ _NO_!” Amidala cried, startling.

“Your father.” There was a pregnant pause on that acknowledgment, as well as a flash of terror that flew by her innocent eyes, spurring Snoke’s moment of triumph. “Ah, yes, you see, I’ve been doing some thinking—”

“You mean, attacking my little sister’s mind more like!” Amidala ground out, heat and the zeal to attack rushing to her head.

“She’s special, that one,” Snoke carried on, as if there had been no interruption. “She’s shrewd like you and your mother, only…not able to fend me off, you see…”

Amidala ceased wiggling at the spread of the Supreme Leader’s knowing, repellent smile, her tongue no longer able to produce coherent thoughts. She saw Snoke’s pitiless eyes slither from her to Ben and her throat constricted. She had never felt more terrified.

“Commander Ren,” Snoke addressed her father, with a disturbing clarity that electrified the air around them, “take off that mask. Let us see each other plainly.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : I've had a number of personal hardships come about in the last few months, including a recent cancer diagnosis of someone in my family, so updates will continue to be slow. For the few active readers still here, thank you for your patience. **
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 22**

_“Don’t show me paradise and then burn it down._ “  
—Harian Coben

* * *

**Two Years Earlier**

Rey switched off the light and tiptoed to the blessedness that was hers and Ben’s king-sized bed, designed to accommodate her husband’s immense stature. She crept beneath the covers and shimmied towards a presently dozing Ben, not wishing to wake him in the throes of one of his much-needed, much denser slumbers. She was too wired for sleep herself but would be content to snuggle into him until the fatigue finally hit her. Between Ben’s persistent, weighty breathing, as well as the calmness that swaddled their energies like a shared, heated blanket, Rey was certain that she would eventually nod off, as she tended to do far more easily when her husband was present.

Ben didn’t so much as moan as Rey craftily spooned him from the side. He remained asleep and splayed on his back, his snores growing louder as the minutes elapsed. Rey snickered into her pillow, willing understanding over this latest bout of exhaustion which she knew deserved her patience.

Ben had gone to bed an hour ago, prior to their eldest’s curfew for a change (which Amidala found highly amusing, Rey less so, for she had recognised the familiar strains lining the man’s face earlier that evening). Its semblance was an aching reminder of the demands a six-day work stretch spent away from his family and pretending to be someone foul, whom he had defected from long ago and no longer resembled, as well as being at the mercy of a twisted madman’s every beck and call, could result in: lower activity levels and irregular sleep patterns, such as tonight’s.

The stresses which Ben’s spy role put on him often saw the reformed Jedi slipping into bed well before Rey and the children on his first night home. That didn’t always guarantee that he slept before (or better than) any of them, but Rey rarely complained about their fleeting first-day reunions. She was simply relieved to have him home and by her side, with the natural warmth of him pressed up against her at any blissful opportunity.

_Alive_ , her overworked mind accentuated.

Rey was overrun by an unwanted shiver that she couldn’t shake. She delicately heaved the covers up to her chest, hoping those minuscule movements wouldn’t wake Ben, and settled her head on top of her pillow. She tried staring at the wall for a time and the rhythmic practice of emptying her mind soon commenced, receding into a lucid, trance-like state of being. Bright but glazed over eyes surveyed the mundane plaster along the wall, ears listening to the ebb and flow of Ben’s assured, consistent breathing pattern. Rey’s keen senses counted each systematic beat of his heart, its music soothing her nerves in these late-night hours when sleep sometimes eluded her.

Rey wasn’t sure for how long the serenity connecting wakefulness and dreams lasted, but before she was cognisant of its remedy, the prod towards sleep began to dominate. Darkness, one that was peaceful and nonthreatening, engulfed her, about to overthrow the remnants of consciousness but for the bleaker share of Ben’s energy which, all of a sudden, hurled towards her from the depths of nothingness to dash the hope of dreams from her grasp.

Rey shot up in bed, as if she had been doused in frigid water, and turned to the source of the disruption: Ben. Yet, he appeared to still be in a deep slumber. It didn’t take long for Rey to realise that something was dreadfully wrong, however. Pearls of sweat dotted Ben’s forehead and his head, arms, and legs were twitching and thrashing against something veiled that seemed to have him bound to the mattress, unable to break free. Then, without warning, he arched his back, the delicate muscles and protruding veins in his neck suggesting that he was trying to scream, though no subsequent sounds erupted from the back of his throat.

By now, Rey was fully conscious, looking on, with horror, at an unseen force that had Ben captive and powerless to communicate. His arms abruptly rose above his head, as though yanked by chains, and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. His heels dug into the sheets, kicking and driving the covers down around his ankles. That exposed Rey to the slight chill in the night air, but the weather wasn’t what left her frozen.

“Ben!” Rey gasped, distressed, and grabbed a hold of the brawny arm closest to her.

A rush of foreign energy, dangerous and seductive, shot through her that didn’t belong to the man whom she loved, like an evil apparition jumping through flesh to announce its otherworldly presence…and uninvited possession. Rey perceived the raw turbulence of its user’s power before it identified itself and charged, all willpower focused on driving it from hers and Ben’s sanctuary.

Without a second thought, Rey sprung on top of an unconscious Ben and latched onto both of his convulsing arms. He didn’t respond to her grabbing at him or to the fact that she was straddling his waist. Rey seized his wrists and balled hands, squeezing them as fixedly as her physical might could, but, still, he wouldn’t wake.

“NO!” her voice erupted in a fretful cry, its echo bouncing off of their bedroom walls and bounding back to her, un-placated.

‘ _NO_!’ she yelled again, this time through her feral-like protective Force energy.

Her Light didn’t hesitate to go on the attack, thwacking at the Darkness it saw in the form of a shapeless mass coveting Ben’s body and concealing all trace of him, energy and otherwise, from her. The Darkness, now named, shook and bore its jagged teeth, having not sensed Rey’s Force presence until now.

‘YOU CANNOT HAVE HIM!’

Affronted but unswayed, the Darkness swelled in size and resilience, tormenting Rey as it blanketed what it knew she desired most: Ben’s release. She wasn’t about to back down, though, and her Light stormed a second time, swatting and expanding and forcing the Darkness to shriek and shrivel at such extraordinary brilliance, though it refused to exit, obstinate in its will.

‘HE’S NOT YOURS!’ Rey roared and the Darkness snarled back at her, greedy and incensed. ‘LET GO OF HIM! LET GO!’

Rey wasn’t aware of shaking Ben with such force as to potentially harm him, her fingers fighting tirelessly as they swept from his hands to his chest to his shoulders in repeated vain attempts to lure him back to the Light; to her side. Her fingernails stabbed at his naked skin, hell-bent on keeping the Darkness from stealing what she knew to be rightfully hers.

‘LET HIM GO, I SAID!’ she bombarded the source of the Darkness, spreading her Light’s reach farther.

The feat was gruelling but Rey wrestled in spite of limitations, her combative efforts impairing Snoke’s foreboding shadow which had been clinging to Ben, despite withering in shape and size as Rey’s Light continued to expand. He gave one last momentous rush, but Rey’s cutthroat strike propelled him backward a final time.

‘HE’S NOT YOURS! LET HIM GO _NOW_!’

What was seconds felt like drawn out minutes, but, at last, Snoke relented. A dizzying whirlpool wheeled Rey around as her opponent retreated, his Darkness slipping through Rey’s fingers like vapour, and then Ben was choking for air and launching himself into an upright position. Rey scrambled to catch him around the neck, fastening her arms tightly around him and anchoring their bodies together.

“ _Rey_ ,” he rasped, his hands un-fisting to claw at her nightgown and untidy, free-flowing hair, as if needing to ensure that she was real. Soon recognising the natural curves and soft skin that belonged to his devoted other half, Ben yanked her breathlessly against him, clasping onto her for dear life.

“Ben… Ben…” Rey whispered in a frenzied fashion. She proceeded to smooth back his damp hair, fervidly kiss his face, and return his all-consuming embrace. “It’s all right. I… I’m here. _I’ve got you_. You feel me?”

Ben nodded into her shoulder, his breaths erratic upon her neck and matching her deliriously beating heart. Slowly, their shared panting abated, as did the intensity of their caress, though neither gambled on letting go of each other just yet.

“And I, you,” Rey sighed into his ear, most grateful once she could sense that the suspense had faded. Snoke was gone, and Ben was returned to her.

He was the first to rear back from their entwinement, but his expression wasn’t what Rey expected: she had anticipated relief at finding himself all right and out of Snoke’s clutches but, instead, his too pasty complexion was accompanied by alarm and trepidation, and apparently targeted at _her_ rather than the manipulative bastard who had connected to him in his sleep to articulate some grievance or other. She didn’t care what the Sith wanted; he wasn’t welcomed here.

“Rey…” Ben said her name again, though this address was in a terror-stricken whisper. “What have you done?”

Rey jerked in his arms, her hands sliding from around his neck. “What?”

“ _Do you realise what you’ve done_?” he snapped harshly.

With a fearsome-like shove, Rey was thrust from Ben’s lap and suddenly sitting on the end of the bed, alone. By the time she had managed to blink and gather herself, Ben was on his feet and patting to their bedroom window, one trembling hand pressed to his mouth. He stared, on edge, at the static night sky.

The potential consequences to Rey’s actions, though she had acted out of the most ardent of love, began to erode her senses like two cruisers brushing rims at lightspeed. Her shoulders tensed and her lower lip quivered, worried lines surfacing across her forehead.

“But he…” She stopped herself and gulped, finding it excruciating to speak for some invisible obstruction in her throat. “I – I wasn’t expecting him to… I couldn’t just _lay there_ and watch you—”

Ben spun around, his stance crouched and confrontational, and the wild look he bore worsened Rey’s anxieties tenfold. Her mouth closed on instinct and pending dread.

“How do you suppose I’ll explain this?” Ben berated her, breathing hard through flared nostrils. “To _him_?”

Rey’s lips wavered, struggling to respond. “Ben, I…” Tears manifested in her eyes and she forced her lips together in order to stall the impulse to cry.

Ben’s display of disturbance didn’t lessen, despite Rey being visibly distraught. He forced a controlled breath and rove his fingers through his rumpled locks. That quirk didn’t ease the tension etched onto his face, however.

“You had no right to interfere, Rey,” he grounded out through clenched teeth, trying to maintain his composure. “What you did…you _shouldn’t_ have done.”

“I… I was afraid, all right?” she pleaded, begging for understanding. Her entire body was quaking on account of her grave error. Her voice quieted as she painfully expressed, with her eyes directed at their mound of crumbled sheets, “I’m sorry, Ben.”

His eyes glistened in the dark, no less undone by her actions. “I’m _this_ close to getting him to talk, Rey, do you understand? To uncovering his plans! So goddamn close…”

Rey’s wet, apologetic eyes flew back to his. “I – I said I was sorry, _all right_?” She waited for the blow of his disappointment to subside, but when Ben simply turned away from her, his mouth lined in disgruntlement, Rey added, her imploring voice barely detectable in their quiet room, “Please… I didn’t…” Exasperated, and hating herself for being reduced to tears, she stressed out loud, “I wasn’t expecting him to connect to you with me right here! You were unconscious and struggling, Ben, and I was _scared_! What would _you_ have done?”

Rey could no longer hold back her tears. Her flushed face dropped into her hands and she stifled a few traumatised sobs behind their cover.

The upsetting sight of his wife falling to pieces in front him finally brought Ben to his senses. In two strides, he crossed the length of their bedroom, knelt onto Rey’s side of the bed, and gathered the weeping Jedi into his arms. His long, warm fingers found the back of her head and gently brushed at pieces of her hair, wishing to put an end to her hysterics.

“It’s all right, Rey,” he soothed her in a soft murmur, taking a moment to sweep his appreciative lips across her cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so upset. What you did was sensible—”

“No, it wasn’t,” she grumbled, snivelling and shaking her head into his sturdy chest. “It’s my fault! I wasn’t thinking—”

“You were protecting me,” he insisted, conveying his understanding further by lovingly nudging what little of Rey’s face he could see, using the tip of his large nose. “I’d have done the same.”

“Not at the expense of compromising a valued position to the Resistance, you wouldn’t have!” she argued plainly, refusing to look him in the eye.

Ben smirked into her silky, brown hair, sensing that effective pout of hers she sometimes exercised to stress her points, though he wasn’t glimpsing it now. “Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something.”

Rey’s hands clung to him, unconvinced. “Ben…”

“I can tell him…” He paused, thinking hard, thoughtfully weighing his options. “I can tell him I’ve been trying to earn your trust and get you to tell me where you are; that tonight you finally showed the first signs of trusting me.”

Rey, still unpersuaded and considerably grumpier for it, brought her face out of hiding. Ben had to hold back a laugh at the endearing sight of his wife—in all of her splotched, snotty glory—and, rather, tended to the tears staining her cheeks. He wiped them away with gentle strokes of his thumbs.

“He’s still going to question whether he trusts _you_ now,” she grimly pointed out, looking appropriately rueful.

“He will, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have more lies to feed.”

Ben’s upbeat outlook couldn’t sway a miserable Rey, the agony of remorse enduring upon her features. “I’m sorry, Ben,” she emphasised some more, her bottom lip threatening to give way. “You’ve been working so hard for so long towards this end…and I couldn’t…just hold off.”

“You had my back, Rey.” Adamant about alleviating the crushing guilt she grappled with, Ben reached one hand around to support Rey’s head and, with the other, cradled her cheek in his palm, maintaining a levelled gaze. His brown, passionate eyes stared into hers, resolute and forgiving, and then he stated, hoping she would sense every ounce of his gratitude, “ _Thank you for that_.”

Before a teary-eyed Rey could reply, Ben tilted her chin upward. Then he captured her mouth, betstowing her an unshakable, reinforcing kiss.

‘You feel me?’ his energy affectionately bumped hers, aiming for a smile.

Rey’s answer was swift and equally tender as she replied, with a wholesome look over but no returning grin, ‘Yes.’

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

A lone Stormtrooper armed with a loaded blaster rifle made for a peculiar, likely questionable sight in this secured section of Proclamation’s Star base. Mid-level occupants consisted of mechanics and engineers, not troopers designed to do battle anywhere from the most remote planets with the testiest weather conditions to arbitrary Deep Space.

Perhaps _that_ explained this Stormtrooper’s fast-paced walk, hurried and seemingly of utmost importance, as he or she scrambled across low lit corridors, intent to avoid running into personnel that passed through connecting hallways or strolled past bolted doors, unawares and seeing to their designated tasks. This Stormtrooper didn’t so much as chance breathing audibly through his or her voice contraption as they rushed along, their back pressed to the walls to (hopefully) sneak about unnoticed.

Upon reaching the end of a straight and narrow corridor, he or she allowed for a prompt glance from left to right. Collecting that the coast was clear, they shifted across a connecting hallway and continued on their way, the smallest sigh of consolation escaping their voice contraption.

Seconds later the same nameless Stormtrooper found their self closing in on two connecting durasteel door frames with cutout windows and instead of attempting to access them, they switched directions, heading left and seeking cover behind an ordinary bin next to an adjoining elevator shaft to wait out what followed. They watched the door for a time, scanning the number of personnel stationed beyond its barriers and any developing shift patterns that might prove useful in gaining entry.

It wasn’t long before two mechanics, whom the Stormtrooper had spotted strolling by the windows moments earlier, exited these safeguarded doors, the taller of the two, a male, halting to press a series of buttons into a code detector that sealed the doors from the outside. He then dashed off to meet up with his attractive female coworker, exchanging words that included feeling “starved”; but that was all of their hush-hush conversation the Stomtrooper was to overhear, for they quickly vanished around a corner.

The Stormtrooper allowed his or herself another moment to survey the area, seemingly silent and vacant, before chancing to emerge from behind their rather conspicuous hiding spot. Their mask honed in on the small code detector on the wall and addressed this latest obstacle of inconvenience, furiously removing a glove to reveal a silver, robotic left hand. The arm of that hand rose into the air, mechanical fingers spread wide, and the body it belonged to stalled its breath, centring and relying on what appeared to be stored energy rather than physical force to pry the doors open.

In a matter of seconds, the code detector was dismantled, the glass encasement cracking without having been touched, and the warded doors unlocked as if by their own accord; or, rather, a mysterious force. The doors parted with a winded groan, granting the Stormtrooper the access he or she sought.

The invader stepped inside and, finding this particular station deserted, removed their helmet. A shaggy beard and sharp-witted, blue eyes revealed the Stormtrooper’s identity: Luke Skywalker.

Despite having to navigate an entirely new environment, Master Luke roamed his new whereabouts rather effortlessly, gliding from one power station chamber to the next, as each tied together, without break in his single-minded direction. All the while, he touched buttons and shifted gears to shut down the Star base’s main power supply.

Upon tapping a round green button, the power station was suddenly flooded in darkness. Sonorous sirens erupted and red lights flashed to alert personnel of the power outage. And the Proclamation’s problem was about to become a much bigger pain in the rear than they had bargained on, for Master Luke, unruffled by the ear-splitting noise and crimson, blinking lights, moved on. He hadn’t pursued this secure section in order to cause a temporary trouble. He wove around computers and power buttons with purpose, rounded a corner and exited an open doorway, stepping fluidly into another.

The next door he happened upon was warded, like the first, and denied to him; a minimal hiccup from the skilled Jedi’s perspective. He unbolted it by using more of that same composed, sweat-inducing energy, his mechanical hand raised in the direction of the door. It clicked and cleared for him to pass through, the hightail speed with which it flew open fluttering wiry bits of his grey hair.

Master Luke’s eyes settled upon a humming backup generator at the centre of this enclosed space, smaller and more compact than the others. “There you are,” he murmured in triumph, a mischievous grin tugging at the borders of his mouth.

Showcasing no glint of reluctance, Master Luke began wrecking havoc on the backup generator, using his trusty lightsaber to wield the greatest damage. Summoning it from a holder attached to his stolen gear, he savagely swung his lightsaber to and fro, beating at the generator multiple times until hunks of metal began to melt, spark, or start a fire. The flames spread rapidly across various keyboards and up the walls.

Wearing a smug smile, Master Luke hustled his Stormtrooper helmet back into place and headed back towards the entrance where he was met by an inundation of seven frantic-looking, wide-eyed mechanics. Their springy legs came to a screeching halt upon encountering the unexpected Stormtrooper.

“Uhhh, you got a problem back there,” Master Luke explained, pointing insistently to the backup generator room that was fast filling with smoke and fire.

Panic swarmed each of the mechanics’ faces. Six of the seven hastened past Master Luke, elbowing him out of their way as they made to put out the fire. The last of them lingered behind, however, eying the Stormtrooper with loaded suspicion. Master Luke shrugged it off.

“I was told to see to the disturbance down here. Well, the _sirens_ are informing everyone of that, aren’t they?” He pointed a casual finger at the ceiling and plugged where his ear should be with the other. “I was demoted to Sanitation in Section 3, so I was nearby to take a look.”

The nameless mechanic, a young man of about twenty-four or twenty-five, sneered at Master Luke, appalled. He scuttled around him as well, awkwardly shifting about so as to not to brush shoulders with the Stormtrooper from Sanitation.

“ _Nice_ ,” Master Luke offhandedly t’sked once the mechanic was out of earshot. He knew better than to linger about and broke into a run, racing for the closest stairwell.

With any luck—and Ben and their family could really use some of _that_ on their side right now—the power outage would be an advantageous distraction in helping them to escape this nightmare; or so Master Luke hoped that the will of the Force might, too, have such plans in store for them. It might, also, buy his sister the time she required to deal with her impatient militia.

_It’s done_ , his Force powers spoke into the ether, as he began climbing the stairs.

_Ben? Rey? The kids? Where are they?_ a desperate-sounding voice hounded in return, her questions carrying a discernment of fear she didn’t tend to show others.

A lump tightened in Master Luke’s throat. He pleaded from afar, _We need more time, Leia. Please… Hold the attack off for as long as you can._

* * *

_Ben shrunk from Rey so spontaneously that his head clonked against the back of his rickety seat, prompting a hiss and a nursing hand to the back of his head. His teeth, already clenched and braced for pain, as well as his eyes, which had been squeezed shut since shortly after takeoff, double winced at the pangs he had not only just endured seconds before but because of what he had, unfortunately, been subjected to since he, Rey, Master Luke, and Chewie had left Ahch-To a half hour ago: Rey’s undesired meddling._

_Somewhere close to his face Ben heard her huff, irritated, and tried to pay her grousing little mind, though such dismissal was short-lived (and insensible on his part, really). Her aggravating voice, as Ben had sorely discovered weeks ago, once spoken couldn’t be so easily shoved from one’s mind._

_“Hold still!” she commanded and before Ben could protest, she grabbed him forcefully by the chin and yanked his face towards her._

_Ben opened an eyelid, mouth grimacing and his bruised features scrunched into a display of sheer dislike. “Not so easy to manage when you have a broken nose and_ you _‘re the one trying to fix it,” he reminded her through a hardened growl._

_Rey narrowed her eyes in a warning-like fashion, proposing that her damaged company ought to shut his trap. “I’m trying to_ help _you!” she claimed._

_“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ben scoffed, leaning away from her in the process, “is_ that _what you call it? Not making matters significantly_ worse _for me than they already are?”_

_Rey gave an emphatic roll of her eyes. “You’re acting like a bloody child, you know that?”_

_Ben met her cutting remark with a strong-willed sneer. “And_ you _haven’t the slightest clue as to what you’re doing.”_

_“I_ do _!” she barked, pretty eyes ablaze. “And I’d be doing a sufficient job of healing you if you’d stop fidgeting so much!”_

_Ben’s frown slid farther down his long face. “But it_ hurts _,” he carped, big ears and flushed cheeks brightening like flares following that unintentional admission of weakness._

_Rey, stunned but charmed, smiled, though that only magnified Ben’s uneasiness. He decided to avoid anymore eye contact and stared at the dirty floors. An odd discovery, considering the Falcon was rarely grimy when his father had been its owner and saw to the rubbish ship’s upkeep. Ben expedited from_ that _upsetting thought straightaway, dark brown hairs brushing over his wounded eyes._

_“I promise it will be over soon, Ben, if you hold still,” Rey cautioned, expending a great deal of gentleness in her approach this time._

_Ben prayed she hadn’t just overheard his personal contemplation from the past. Rey showed no signs of having overstepped her boundaries but then she reached out a hand to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, and Ben was left to second guess the Padawan learner’s instincts. He mumbled under his breath, sucked in a shaky breath, and forced his massive, flinching form to stay still for her._

_Rey’s smile extended, appeased by his grown up gesture. She unraveled a damp cloth from a closed hand and bent closer to address Ben’s biggest, sorest injury: a bruised, disjointed, and grossly purple nose. Much of the dried blood had, at least, been washed away thanks to her, but the injury was in dire need of mending. Apparently, she was the only individual who cared enough to set Ben’s face straight, for even_ he _had acted entirely indifferent to repairing his broken nose._

_“Well, we can’t have you greeting your mother looking like you just got beaten to a pulp,” Rey had tried to reason with him once she and Chewie had the Falcon flying at cruise control._

_Rey hadn’t missed Ben’s jerk of discomfort at the mention of his mother nor at the fraught acknowledgment that the two would be meeting in a matter of hours; but he let the pain fizzle, opting to remind Rey through more of his perfected, grating sarcasm, “I_ did _get beaten to a pulp, remember?” and stole a stinging glance at the back of Chewie’s furry head presently occupying the co-piloting seat._

_Chewie had whined proudly. Rey had sighed, displeased, but in the end, she was able to convince Ben to let her use her Force capabilities to heal his nose. They both seemed to be having second thoughts about that now that they had separated from Chewie and Master Luke on the Falcon to address the issue._

_It had taken all of the morning and most of the afternoon to coax Ben and Master Luke into leaving the island, but the two fickle men had eventually conceded after much bellyaching and fussing about, purposely stalling in gathering their necessities for the short journey which, Rey shrewdly noted, could have been accomplished in about half the time that it ultimately took them to depart. Chewie’s threats throughout the day helped push their agenda along, making Rey all the more grateful to have the Wookie as her accomplice._

_To an extent, she understood her master’s and Ben’s rigid reluctance to go. Each had their own misgivings about joining up with the Resistance at its new secret headquarters, some more valid and sympathetic to her way of thinking than others._

_Master Luke had spent over a decade in isolation, for one, confined to the island’s greenery and living off of its many natural supplies. That choice in secluded lifestyle had been his to make, but leaving behind this remote, closed off way of existence must surely be daunting to face and on such short notice, so Rey exercised patience. It wasn’t as if Master Luke didn’t know that this day was coming, as Rey had been stringent about him joining the Resistance since her arrival, but she knew that he deserved a certain level of tolerance, so she granted it as much as her self-restraint would stretch…which had been several hours’ worth of waiting on him to agree to leave Ahch-To._

_What was mostly holding Master Luke back was the hard-hitting fact that he hadn’t sought to communicate with his sister once in the many years that he had hid away from the galaxy. Rey found that most perplexing. Any brief exchanges she and Leia had had about Master Luke prior to seeking him out on Ahch-To had indicated that the twins were close, so why had Master Luke deserted Leia in the end?_

_Regardless of his reasons, Master Luke couldn’t exactly be expected to be looking forward to confronting his sister, especially after having left her and the Resistance behind to fend for themselves. There would likely be contempt and righteous anger on Leia’s part, and Rey wouldn’t chide the general for whatever ill feelings she might be harbouring towards her brother. Not only was General Organa too intimidating and influential to dare chastise, she was a force of her own to be reckoned with._

_Then again, General Organa was also a woman who, like most of her sex, fluctuated, evolved, and changed…and was never no less full of surprises._

_Far more concerning to Rey than a potentially crabby Skywalker-Organa reunion was what Leia might think when she learned of Master Luke’s influence in creating her son’s heinous replacement identity, Kylo Ren. She half wondered if no one else but her had no intentions of keeping this development from the general a secret, if it_ was _even a secret, for that matter. Frankly, Rey hoped—prayed, rather—that_ she _wouldn’t be the one to have to unload such debilitating news on the poor general._

_Rey pondered the sticky situation between uncle, nephew, and the mother of that nephew over and over again as she and the others quietly transferred supplies from the abandoned huts to the Falcon. No one had said much since Ben and Chewie’s emotional face-off. The tense atmosphere, as well as their impending departure, had put everyone too much on edge to bother with exchanging soft words._

_A trouble at the back of Rey’s mind persisted, nevertheless: did Leia know of her brother’s mistake that, ultimately, had set Ben on his war path towards the Dark Side? Had Han known the truth at all before he perished?_

_Rey found it increasingly trying to swallow the deeper she considered the alternative. It seemed quite unlikely that Ben’s parents were privy to the whole picture of what had sent their son running into the detrimental, nefarious hands of Snoke. The more likely probability was that Han Solo had gone to his death believing his precious, only son had turned on the family—and not necessarily the other way around—which left Rey wrought with bothersome discomfort._

_The Solo-Skywalker family dysfunction was an exceptionally heartbreaking one and seemed to worsen with each destructive revelation. The likelihood of matters between any of them worsening before they had the opportunity to get better was not only feasible to Rey but a near certainty…and didn’t boast well for the fragility that was the Resistance, hanging on by a hope and a thread._

_Unlike the touchy situation between Master Luke and Leia, Ben Solo had a great deal more riding on his tail to be anxious about, and Rey’s concerns for him, too, were merited. By all accounts, he was still considered an enemy to many, and there was no telling how he might be received into their fold, if at all. As his mother, General Organa might carry some influence but that authority could only extend so far. Rey wasn’t foolhardy and had no trouble comprehending the tremendous odds that were stacked against Ben. Any persuasion she, Leia, and Master Luke might hold would take time to accept, and there wasn’t much of that to be found in the middle of a war either._

_The risks involved in taking Ben Solo to the Resistance’s secret headquarters and putting faith in the Light not to turn on its heel and devour Ben whole was tangible. In truth, Rey was scared out of her wits, but she resisted labouring over the point and, instead, focused on the things she_ could _control, such as fixing Ben’s ghastly-looking nose during their nail-biting flight to Crate._

One bleedin’ obstacle at a time _, she reminded herself, but her concerns kept creeping to the forefront as they drew closer to their destination._

_One thing was certain: this day would either be Leia Organa-Solo’s victory, and cast aside all doubts previously imprinted on her by those around her who argued against the general’s undying hopes that her son would one day return; or it would be her heartbreaking reckoning._

_Would she recognise the son she had maintained such unconditional love for, despite the gruesome misdeeds he had achieved since they last met in the flesh? Ben had morphed into another mutation altogether since the innocent days of his problematic teen years, when Leia had dropped him off to be trained by his trustworthy uncle, and not just in height and muscle mass—or in how he had appropriately grown into his enchantingly large ears, for instance—but as someone Rey, too, struggled at times to connect the dots with._

_The monster that was Kylo Ren was dwindling with each setting sun, but elements of the beast lingered behind: from the heaviness in how Ben carried himself to his gloomy eyes, robbed of starlight. Alas, the weight of Ben’s old demons followed him everywhere._

But if _I_ can see Ben in there, Leia and others surely will, too _, Rey convinced herself._

_“Stop that,” Ben suddenly snipped, shaking Rey back to the present and what she was supposed to be doing._

_Rey blushed and her eyes flickered, taking in the uncomfortable sight of Ben’s wary glare. “I… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, embarrassed._

_“Yeah, well…” Ben set his nettled glare on a corner of the main hold, settling for the silent approach._

_Rey gulped, unsure of how to breech the thoughts Ben hadn’t been meant to penetrate. “I know you’re afraid…”_

_“Don’t—”_

_“And it’s understandable,” she fought to speak over him, wanting to be heard, “but…her regard for you has never changed, Ben, regardless of…of what’s happened to you.”_

_Ben’s eyes, darker and angrier than minutes ago, darted towards her, holding Rey prisoner in their cell. “And how would_ you _presume to know how my mother feels about me?” he challenged, his voice low, ominous, and, worst of all, hurting._

_Rey stilled, remembering the extraordinary strength of Leia Organa-Solo on the day of Han Solo’s death. Their reunion in the form of a consoling hug had conveyed a unified loss, but Leia had offered Rey a little more of it that day, showcasing remarkable perseverance in the face of all-consuming grief that the younger of the two couldn’t emulate._ _She had barely shed a tear. In fact, she had comforted Rey rather than the reversal of the two._

_“Because of the way she looks when she speaks of you,” Rey admitted, her answer imparting irrefutable conviction. Her attention switched from the solid memory to Ben’s stricken face, tinted by artificial lighting. “You’re everything to her, Ben._ Everything _.”_

_Ben stared at Rey without blinking, his blaze of indignation dulled by a deep-rooted anguish she couldn’t yet touch. Then a grisly_ crack _, followed by Ben gasping, snapping his head sideways, and letting forth a mighty curse, put an end to their intimate connection. Ben blinked back tears, lightheaded from his nose being clicked back into proper position, and gradually pulled his gaze back to Rey, stunted and silenced._ _His eyes were watery._

_“There,” Rey said and stood, giving a brief glance over of her work._

_Pleased with the results, she reached down to pat Ben’s shoulder. He was startled when she bent at the waist and bestowed his forehead with a sweet-minded kiss as well. Then she righted herself and smiled for him and his breath lodged in his throat, un-expelled._

_“Good as new!”_

_A brighter Rey moseyed away from the main hold of the Falcon to rejoin Chewie and Master Luke in the cockpit. Ben lingered behind at the circular dejarik table where, in his youth, his father had tried rather hopelessly to help him strategise to win against Chewie in the hostile, two-player game. Over the years, Ben had won a total of four times, and he never forgot Chewie’s rage during each battle in which he had secured the victorious manoeuvre that cost the Wookie the game._

_From afar, Ben roughly heard Chewie informing Rey of “another forty-five minutes” to go before they would reach the Resistance’s base. He thought he might lose consciousness upon learning that he was that much closer to his ruination but, somehow, his mind and body conserved their anxiety, sparing him from passing out._

_Snoke was another ultimate handle he could no longer anticipate how it would end. He hadn’t checked in with Ben in weeks and aside from confronting the magnitude that was his mother and her justified bones to pick with him, Ben knew that_ that _defining connection was still to come._

_There was more than one way to skin a cat and Ben, to his mirthless knowledge, was screwed from both ends._

* * *

**Present Day**

**(D’Qar, Resistance Headquarters)**

The building commotion and uproar showed no indications of waning, and the throbbing between Leia’s temples wasn’t conducive to easing the tensions piling on. She groaned and rubbed at her forehead, though, unsurprisingly, there came no instant relief.

Who would have thought it would be her own ruddy crew—not their enemies—responsible for doing General Organa’s head in today? Leia was determined not to voice such offence aloud and made to push the mounting chaos from her mind by closing her eyes and searching out that reliable expanse; that tranquil sanctuary in the centre of her being where those surrounding her couldn’t interfere, between breaths and between worlds. She prayed that she might find her dutiful son there, too, maybe her granddaughter and her daughter-in-law as well.

_Ben…_

Leia’s stab at reaching them went (sadly) unfulfilled, as she kept being shaken from such desired designs by those occupying the same physical sphere. At present, they were shouting her name and throwing verbal darts at one another that shot to hell the odds of achieving _any_ peaceful solution.

For the Resistance, and especially its great leader, it was a sore sight to witness: top-ranking officials, all of whom claimed to adore General Organa and whom she sincerely loved in return, resorting to acting like gremlins rather than astute, capable human beings.

Leia hadn’t expected the sudden outpouring of disfavour towards her decision-making. Yet, as all four foot, eleven inches of her stood amidst two opposing sides for the same cause, Leia bleakly realised, perhaps too belatedly, that she _should_ have anticipated this backlash, worse, still, from that of her own company.

Digging her fingernails into her palms, Leia inhaled long and deep and released a defining exclamation, the level of her voice unimpressive but its zeal no less effective as she commanded to the masses, “ _That’s enough_!”

The atmosphere quieted down at once, though conflicting emotions throughout the room, which stemmed from adverse to terror, held sway. Lieutenant Mills, a thirty-something, dark-haired woman with pale green eyes and an unfailing loyalist to Leia since the first forecasts suggested that another Darkness after the First Order was forming, leaned in from across the circular table that divided her and the general, a 3D map of Proclamation’s Star base, as well as three of their rotating fighter ships, acting as a barrier.

“General, with all due respect—” she started to address Leia but was cut down before she could finish her thought.

“ _Yeah_? And in what capacity am I getting any of _that_ at the moment, Lieutenant?”

Leia shot Mills a reproachful glare that left the lieutenant, as well as many of her like-minded colleagues, cowering in shame, their body language reeling back from the military space at which everyone of high-ranking importance was gathered. Certainly, no one was enjoying this—questioning General Organa’s jurisdiction—but for some, such misfortune could no longer be muted or avoided.

“We mean you no disrespect, General,” another boldly—or foolishly—interceded on Mills’s behalf, a bearded fellow to the Lieutenant’s right, “but Lieutenant Mills is correct. We have fighters in position—”

“Actually, um, you’ve got _three_ fighters up there at the moment, Lieutenant Davies,” Poe piped in, giving a clumsy clearing of his throat and a grating crunch of his teeth as he chowed on an assortment of chips. Several unnerved staff members, including Davies and Mills, rotated their stiff heads towards the outspoken Starflight Commander, now lounging on an ordinary desk feet from them, with an intricate printed map of the enemy’s second Starkiller base spread across his thighs. “Just the three,” Poe carried on casually through a mouth full of food, as if he was blind to their annoyance. “Not enough to start a war; not _nearly_ enough.”

Turning beet red in the face, the vexed man named Davies snarled, “I meant we should send up _more_ fighters!”

Poe raised both eyebrows, paused to offer Finn a chip, who was standing beside him and politely declined, and turned to Leia for guidance. “And what of this Starkiller base?”

“We should send up fighters to deal with this matter first, Commander!”

“Well, as you may recall, Lieutenant, there are innocent people— _crucial_ members to the Resistance and _children_ , mind you—trapped on that base right now. As far as I’ve been told, we aren’t being given the order to intervene and potentially wipe out our own. Unless…General?”

Leia abstained from rolling her eyes or smirking, but the amused shimmer that passed by her eyes didn’t go amiss by those her gaze was pointedly directed at. “At ease, Commander,” she deadpanned to Poe and reluctantly returned to the tension in the room that required her intervention.

“General,” a soft-spoken Major Brance took a turn to speak, causing Leia to start; he delicately took her by the arm, “our enemy won’t let us circle their base and survey their perimeters forever untouched. Mills and Davies have a point. It would be advantageous to us to start this—”

“ _For the last time_ , Brance,” Leia declared, gripping an edge of the table to keep from snatching the closest item within reach and hurling it at someone’s head, “I _won’t_ strike until I hear from Ben, Rey, or Luke. It’s crucial that we gather intelligence from the inside.”

Brance looked as though he wanted to plead his—and others’—case some more but a buzz of outrage swarmed the room. A man of roughly the same age and rank as Mills shouted higher and above the fray, “This operation can’t afford to be stalled any longer on account of five captives and two of our crew who entered Proclamation’s Star base _willingly_ , knowing the risks they were taking!”

Leia’s head whirled towards the young man questioning her authority, piercing him with her glare so intensely that his eyes dove for the floor. Her surveillance continued to measure his, eyes simmering with repressed wrath. She held her head high but, for the moment, refused to acknowledge his complaint.

Thankfully, Finn interrupted the spark of excitement, sparing Leia the opportunity to lose her composure. “Those are _lives_ you’re suggesting we toy with! Lives that matter to us!”

“And what,” the young man daringly prodded, turning his offence onto Finn, “the countless others we’ve lost in battling the Proclamation have meant _nothing_?”

“No one’s saying that!” Poe stepped in, jumping up from the desk he had been using as a convenient chair. “But they deserve more time!” He brandished the confidential map he held in one hand. “The only reason we now have a chance to put an end to the Proclamation’s tyranny is because of Ben! The Solo family _deserves_ a chance to escape! We _have_ to give them that!”

“‘Time’?” Davies disputed, frustrated by Poe’s stance. He waved an accusatory finger in the air, not aiming his declaration at anyone in particular, though everyone’s weighty attention still fell upon their stoic, silent general. “Our time is running out! The longer we hold onto this vital information and do nothing, the greater chance the Proclamation has to uncover what we’re up to and slip away from us!”

The bold man who had dared to debate General Organa’s tactics stepped forward, slammed his hands down on the table, and stared Leia downr. “General, I _implore_ you, it’s now or never! We _can’t_ miss this chance! You _must_ be willing to put your personal sacrifices aside and—”

“‘Personal sacrifices’?” Leia reiterated, her choice of a low whisper carrying a density that saw most personnel lamenting the man’s words. He, too, recoiled, with seeming regret. “Ah, I suppose you…you’d know all about the ‘personal sacrifices’ I’ve made for the good of this base… _wouldn’t you_?”

Although she had managed to shut most of her staff up, Leia’s confidence wavered, heart and mind torn between following the principled advice of her crew, which she knew, as an experienced, long-time strategist, would be to the better benefit of their cause versus staying on the treacherous course that her heart so hopelessly preferred: keeping her family together and in one piece. She froze where she stood, heart pumping tumultuously. Her tongue was unable to speak to those waiting on her to accept their counsel.

_The welfare of the galaxy above your own, Leia_ , a wiser, deeper voice within answered to that turmoil, stomping down the unbearable pangs that beat within the walls of her chest. _Yes._ Freedom came above her heart, always; democracy came before those whom she loved most. _But to what end has any of it made you stronger…or better?_ her tattered heartstrings lamented.

There was no answer to that convoluted question. There could be none for which Leia Organa-Solo might be able to live with or overcome.

_Too many losses. Please don’t take anymore from me. Please… No more._

She was saved—somewhat—from addressing her staff again by Brance, who gently cajoled a hampered, indisposed Leia away from the centre of what was, to her, a darkening world caving in on itself. On _her_. He begged for their staff to offer the general and him a moment to converse alone, to which his request was granted; but the disenchanted droning from many of those who turned their backs and griped amongst themselves carried on.

“General… _Leia_ ,” said Brance, trying to voice his opinion with delicacy, “I’m afraid time is running thin.”

“Brance,” Leia wrestled to speak but floundered.

“They’re right, Leia: we _can’t_ delay. The longer we dally, the more time the Proclamation has to counter an attack. If they decide to take us on first, our three fighters won’t stand a chance up there, and we’ll have no choice but to engage anyhow.”

Leia drew inward, yielding to the inevitable that was so viciously staring her in the face and laughing cruelly at one more of her countless sorrows. She slumped against the edge of a desk, hunched her shoulders defeatedly, and closed her eyes. Her soul may have been clobbering to hang on to a smidgen of hope, but there could be no tears shed in this room. Such griefs would have to be reserved for when she was alone. A mother’s and grandmother’s and general’s losses, though crushing, were to be mourned behind closed doors, not in the open air.

“General!” a startlingly eager Poe suddenly dislodged Leia from her internal melancholy. He shook her shoulder, forcing Leia to open her eyes, whether she desired to distract herself from her splintering heart or not. “We have an idea! Well, it was _Finn_ ‘s idea, really, and it’s brilliant, I’m telling you!”

Finn, who had strolled over to join their close circle, squared his shoulders and griped, “Why do you act surprised whenever I have an idea? My ideas are _always_ genius!”

Poe laughed and slapped him on the back. “I’m just giving you credit, love—”

“Officer Finn, what’s this ‘genius’ plan of yours?” Leia cut in, exercising all seriousness. “More importantly, _will it save my family_?”

“That’s the hope, General,” Finn replied, nodding in earnest. “If we can shuttle a couple of your biggest cruisers up there to distract the Proclamation, we might be able to sidetrack the rest of these sour, bloodthirsty sods, too.”

“Distract _how_?” Leia questioned.

“By going after their source of survival _before_ we cut them off everywhere else: Starkiller base.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you, as always, to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

****

**Chapter 23**

_“Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity. It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend.”_

—Melody Beattie

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Ben solidified in crouched position on the ground, incapable of so much as drawing breath. The tension running through his limbs was acute.

Without possession of the upper hand _or_ being stationed on physically higher ground, he was considerably low on options and _that_ was terrifying at this calamitous time frame in which he found himself, facing a dire circumstance he couldn’t have fathomed in his wildest nightmares: his family caught in the rift of the life-threatening mess that was his double-agent life.

It was little wonder he felt suddenly paralysed in time and space. Considering the many terrors his cursed soul had confronted in over forty years of participating in warfare, bloodshed, and toying the dangerous trajectory between Darkness, Light, and utter annihilation, Ben Solo had (miraculously) avoided the sickening probability surrounding his own children possibly being subjected to such atrocities. He had made it his utmost priority in this renewed life of his, with Rey, to keep her and their children off of Snoke’s radar, no matter the personal cost. Yet, the profound error in not having secured that knot was being sorely tested now. Ben’s disastrous card had been dealt…and he found himself a severely disadvantaged player.

_“…take off that mask. Let us see each other plainly.”_

Frozen by Snoke’s tall order, Ben broke out in an inconvenient sweat at the back of his neck. His fisted, gloved hands trembled, though he snaked his fingers tighter. Snoke had mandated that he remove his mask and at a heart-pounding moment such as this, when it would be most unfortunate to show the crippling fears manifesting outwardly, Ben knew that he had little other option available but to comply.

The ‘front’ that was Kylo Ren had been his handiest pretence before and since Snoke’s re-rise to power, and yet, ironically, that façade was now failing him disasterously. Not only had it camouflaged countless reactions to the many enemies he was forced to regularly interact with, allowing for some level of control over the stream of emotions his face otherwise wore at any given moment, but it kept outsiders guessing Ben’s true sentiments, Snoke included.

Snoke detested the mask because of what it denied him: a clear signalling of disloyalty and doubt re-shaping in his forgiven apprentice. Ben had fashioned himself a new one (amusedly, with Rey’s handy assistance) upon regaining entry into the Supreme Leader’s tightly fashioned circle and had considered it one of his greatest acts of defiance. A small acknowledgement in the grand scheme of things, perhaps, but important to the stubborn spy, nonetheless, who wished to impress upon his ‘master’ that he wouldn’t be so easily kicked around as he had in the past.

Well, not _entirely_. As dedicated as Ben played his role, he was determined to show a bit of a rebellious streak that had been too terrorising to chance under Snoke’s rigorous First Order regime. He would, as he vindictively put it to his less enthusiastic wife and mother, ‘poke the beast who fed him’ from time to time, testing and addling Snoke’s mutilating paranoia. That, in turn, meant the commander was kept on a tight leash and that, too, provided Ben a secret weapon of sorts: closer access to the maniac’s way of thinking and plotting.

Alas, it would seem that all of Ben’s painstaking efforts towards securing an end to the Proclamation were falling by the wayside now, with him being forced to swallow the brunt of those misfortunes, though his throat was too parched. Knowing that if he was ordered to remove his mask a second time he would likely forfeit any of Snoke’s remaining trust, Ben obliged his ‘master’.

His slightly unsteady hands gripped the fail-safe black chrome that had become his disguise and it betrayed his feathery touch, clicking and shifting out of joint. The mask, at last, slipped away to reveal a clamped, unsafe falsehood: Ben’s fleshy, vulnerable expressions, ready to sell him out at any moment.

“Yes, you see? _There_.”

Snoke’s affirmation, an eerie, daunting whisper that sounded most confident in its judgement, set the nail-biting scene, his upper lip curling backward in what appeared to be disgust. He whipped Amidala around by the shoulders, curling his large hands around her, though there was no need to hold the girl physically hostage; his Force abilities exercised that oppression well enough on their own, ensuring that Amidala wouldn’t escape. She yelped under his crushing grip.

“Is _that_ the face of a faithful apprentice, I wonder?”

Amidala didn’t answer him. Her breathing quickened as she gaped, petrified, at Ben for some sort of guidance, but his eyes were purposely aimed somewhere around her wonky ankles, every ounce of his burly frame immobile and stiff.

Snoke, too, didn’t elaborate upon that tantalising question, allowing for the thick silence to cultivate and deepen. He eventually leaned closer to Amidala and brushed her ear with his cold lips, proposing by way of a delighted smirk, “Shall I tell you what I think, my dear?” to which she snarled, resistant.

“I – I’m _not_ your ‘dear’, you filth!”

Amidala wiggled uselessly against her invisible restraints, attempting to draw attention away from her father. Ben saw straight through his daughter’s gallant but, ultimately, flimsy ploy and, regrettably, so did Snoke, for, unaffected by her outburst, his crafty attention zoned in on Ben specifically, wicked eyes unblinking and driven to tear; to destroy utterly.

“Rise, Commander Ren.”

Ben’s long legs mechanically did as they were instructed to. Either this was an out of body experience—a new, unfamiliar sensation for Ben Solo—or his fears had reached new heights upon which even _he_ could no longer react with fleet-footed precision or cautious effectiveness. He was too afflicted by the horror of what had mounted into a ruinous failure. How was he to stop this impending shipwreck without killing himself or, worse, taking down Amidala and the rest of his family with him?

_You’re in over your head_ , a canny voice warned inside his head, and it took Ben a couple heart-pounding seconds to comprehend that that hadn’t been his own conscience remarking on his downfall but another.

For some reason, either stemming from witless audacity or an involuntary reflex, Ben lifted his affected gaze and forced himself to look upon the harrowing scene, eyes flashing back and forth between his trapped daughter and the unbridled mastermind now threatening everything he held dear. He turned off his emotions, much like hitting a light switch, and frantically prepped himself for the worst yet to come.

“You see, my dear, I advised my apprentice long ago that should he double-cross me,” Snoke proclaimed, with bone-chilling, impassive evenness, holding a debilitated Amidala and Ben engrossed, “it would mean his end; the termination of his life and the extinction of his royal bloodline. He almost met that end in the Great Fire that took down the First Order…and nearly _me_ with it.

“But like ashes, and those too powerless to stop our tyranny from spreading, we rose once more. So, too, did my undistinguished apprentice, with his elaborate tale of being blinded by the Light’s empty promises; by that contemptible scavenger’s Light and lies. _Your mother_ ,” he breathed next to Amidala’s ear, causing her stomach to clench and churn.

“I took him back, you see. I showed my apprentice mercy, a token rarely bestowed upon our enemies. I gave him everything he sought and _then_ some, for he had submitted to his weaknesses and granted me the wherewithal to hone them to my benefit. I don’t give second chances lightly, you know, but I remembered Ren’s raw potential and decided that his powers were too easily manipulated to destroy.

“Ah, yes, such enormous capacity, such breathtaking conflict… Such a mighty tool for the Proclamation…

“I warned Ren,” Snoke continued, each sentence more ominous than the last, “that should he double-cross me again, I _would_ finish what I started. That should have been sufficient; my threat needn’t have gone any farther. And then I saw it…”

Snoke inhaled a deep breath, lithe fingers digging into Amidala’s shoulders. She shook, not from the displeasure of the Sith’s touch, though that was putrid, but from the knowingness and ferocity that lay behind his claimed, as yet unspoken vision.

Then a series of grisly images began flourishing across Amidala’s sight. Spooked at recognising them from two years ago during a frightful meditation session with her mother that had gone awry and ended with her father passing out, Amidala went rigid as stone. She saw her brother, Han, trying to outrun what she now identified as Kylo Ren’s—her father’s—flaming red saber that rose to cut him down; there was Astrid screaming in unspeakable pain as her little body was electro-shocked, the force used to run her through so brutal that, before long, she went grey and lifeless; and there was her mother writhing on the ground as her Light and goodness—her very soul—were stripped from her until she could no longer communicate or move…

Nearing hysteria, Amidala’s eyes latched onto Ben, who showed understated but no less panic-stricken signs of having been forced to watch the same visions. Was the savagery she had witnessed that day alongside her parents, rather, a foreshadowing of their present captivity (and alleged aftermath) instead of what she had presumed was the Darkness simply messing with her family and trying to scare them?

Amidala’s chest heaved and she shut her eyes, determined to block out what she was being dictated to behold. Her headstrong refusal to look upon the disintegration of her family any longer didn’t lessen Snoke’s cutthroat approach.

“The _girl_ …” he growled, with aggressive, clear-minded hatred that saw Amidala recoiling farther into herself. “That worthless Nobody—your wretched mother—attempting to sabotage my apprentice once more! Her audacity knew no bounds!

“I retreated the day she struck back at me—that night in your father’s bed—but I wasn’t fooled by what I saw. She was an instigator who needed to be squashed! Then, who should I encounter but _you_ , young Padawan?”

One of Snoke’s rough hands slipped from Amidala’s shoulder to wrap possessively around her neck. Amidala went rigid, the breathing from her nose expelling in quicker spurts. Ben, watching from afar, chewed his inner cheek so hard that he tasted the acid tang of blood on his tongue moments after.

“I knew the scavenger had had the repugnancy to reproduce,” the wise Sith lord begrudged, his menacing caress of Amidala holding whilst his sinister eyes remained glued to a seemingly helpless Ben. “I sensed your gifts, young Padawan, from the moment I first sought you in your dreams. You remember, don’t you? _Three years ago_ …and I’ve pursued you ever since.

“I needed to know _how_ such a powerful youngling had come into being without my prior knowledge. There’s no way a Force-sensitive like you gains such strength in such a short span of time without counsel; without those stronger in the ways of the Force to shield you from me; without ties to a powerful bloodline… And there aren’t many of _those_ to come by, are there?

“Ah, yes,” he snorted, revelling in his expertise of what the Solos had sadly believed was a covert operation, “I’d failed to discover you sooner, my dear, but I know now. Yes, _I_ _know_ all _about you_. Your mother, your treacherous father, _no one_ can hide you from me…”

Another familiar image suddenly zoomed past Amidala’s mind and her eyes flew open, abject horror overtaking her senses: herself, dressed in the current clothes she donned, bowing before what she could only assume was Snoke on bended knee and binding her loyalty to his wraith-like shape. Her head shot up, eyes enlarged. She noticed that Ben had seen it, too, though he had yet to react.

“NO!” she half exclaimed, half strained. “I – I _won’t_! I’d _never_!”

Undeterred, Snoke pressed on, keeping Amidala disturbingly close as he laughed lowly against the side of her face, “You _shall_ , my dear, but all in good time. I must carry on with my story, mustn’t I? I haven’t gotten to the juiciest part yet. No, no…

“The burning question, I’m sure, you and Ren are asking yourselves is how did I come to connect you to your father and his hidden identity? Why, by those who made for my unwitting accomplices in this most fascinating mystery: _your very own parents_ , my dear.”

Elated by the fickle reactions he garnered from both Amidala and Ben, both of whom flickered their fraught gazes towards one another, the Supreme Leader smiled a baleful smile and bid his time. The upsetting news sunk in, ruthless and life-altering, and it didn’t take long for one of them to mount a violent defence.

“ _You – You’re a liar_!” Amidala heatedly fired back, even as Snoke chuckled and tightened his clutch around her throat. “They’d _never_ tell you _anything_! You tore it out of my sister, you monster! She’s only _five_ , and you assaulted her mind!”

“What a fool you are, young one,” Snoke tut-tutted her, his mangled, aged face cool and devoid of emotion. “You have so much to learn, my dear. So, so much…”

“I told you, _I’m not your_ —”

“Your little sister merely confirmed for me what I’d already suspected; or just _who_ do you and your father think you’re dealing with?”

The suffocating pause that followed was crushing, and all father and daughter could do in that ill-fated moment was stare at one another, despairing and afraid, their silhouettes cruelly separated by mere meters. All remaining blood drained from Ben’s countenance, marking him ashen and gripped by the nightmare that had been of his own hapless doing, now about to come to its vicious conclusion.

“Your parents unknowingly gave you away, young Padawan,” Snoke revealed, his words containing no shred of mercy. “You think them god-like, you and your siblings, but you’re so wrong, it’s nearly pitiful. They’re weak and flawed—”

“ _No, they’re not_!” Amidala thrashed about, though the act did her no good.

“—and ineffective against _me_! I knew your gifts couldn’t stem wholly from your mother alone. You had to have _two_ Force-sensitive parents, no doubt, and who is as equally matched in the Light as your mother but my own apprentice in his Darkness? The one who _failed_ me before and to whom your mother had sought to protect more than once!

“How unfortunate for the pathetic lot of you Solos. _Yes_ … The man you’ve faithfully called ‘father’ has sealed yours and your family’s fates, I’m afraid. It’s thanks to _him_ that you’re all to perish tonight.”

Amidala jolted in fright. In spite of having her air supply somewhat cut off by Snoke’s clasp, she squirmed and fought to speak.

“ _You promised me_!” she started shrieking and craned her neck to glare down Snoke sidelong, eyes watering with tears. “You – You swore to me that you’d leave my family alone if – if I came to you—”

“ _If_ I got what I wanted, you daft child!” he scorned, unremitting. He bore his jagged, yellow teeth and Amidala crumbled, silenced by the horrid realisation that she had been played. “You refused to give me what I asked for: your father! You proved yourself unworthy! Untrustworthy!”

“N – No, _please_!”

“Did you honestly think _you_ were any kind of worthwhile substitute for the uncovering of your father’s true identity; for the capture of the rest of your family? I’ve sought your parents’ demises for _years_ , you ignorant girl. Did you _really_ think I’d stop now? For _you_? Such a gullible, witless child.”

“ _NO_!” Amidala cried out, her desperate exclamation registering more like a defeated whimper.

Seeking to degrade her further, Snoke yanked on Amidala’s throat, pulling them almost nose to nose. She let out a feebler cry this time and from feet away, Ben’s legs gave an immediate jerk, his saber hand twitching to rise up and fight.

“I don’t cater to anyone!” the Supreme Leader declared, spitting in her face. “ _I am the Proclamation_! _I_ am more powerful than you could ever hope to be! You’re _nothing_ , you mindless, worthless, little scum!”

With that, he released his hold and tossed Amidala to the floor with one fluid, turbulent shove. Overcome with emotion, Amidala raised her head and looked Snoke defiantly in the face, tears pouring from her eyes.

“ _We had a deal_!” she pleaded, visibly shaken but hoping still to try to reason with the madman. Her bravery shattered her father’s heart. “You promised me you’d let my family go!”

“I don’t make promises, fool!” Snoke boomed over her. He stalked forward, looming over a quivering Amidala, who instinctively retreated backwards on her hands and knees, inching closer and closer towards Ben. “I make _commands_ which are to be obeyed! And, now, it’s time for _you_ to pay your dues, Amidala Solo. You must choose. Your family is finished! Will you join them…or join me?”

Amidala’s mouth wavered, torn between saying nothing and rushing to Ben’s side or attempting to stand her pointless ground. She was spared having to answer when the lights throughout the room abruptly flickered and shut off, placing her, Snoke, and Ben in complete darkness. Alarms sounded an alert, their ear-splitting noise overpowering Snoke’s subsequent curse, followed by an enraged hiss of, “What in the—” that went incomplete.

Detecting the sudden shuffling of feet nearby, for Amidala was too close to Snoke for his sharp sensitivities not to pick up on her attempt at an escape, he whipped his head towards the source of retreat, glowing eyes squinting to make out her or Ben amongst the shadows. His voice erupted above the terror, earth-shattering and dominant as he roared, “ _TRAITOR_! _YOU WILL NOT RUN FROM_ ME _, BEN SOLO_! _NOT NOW! NOT EVER AGAIN_!”

Snoke’s spindly arms rose into the air, shrivelled fingers outstretched. Darkness frothed and pawed, swirling about and hungering for a fight. Then feral blue light cut through the shadows, its brilliance lighting up the room and eclipsing Ben’s and Amidala’s concealment. Snoke’s Force lightening combusted with the igniting of Ben’s crossguard saber which sought to drive back the Darkness that threatened to overrun him and his daughter.

In this shared space, Ben and Snoke discerned one another’s faces distinctively—one blood red from his saber, an obstinate sneer and fiercely protective stance to match, the other as coldblooded as the blue bursts of energy that exploded from his fingertips—with Amidala crouched behind the defying commander’s back, powerless to any of it.

“You’ve disobeyed me for the last time, _Ben Solo_!” Snoke bellowed, his upper lip curling back at the utterance of the man’s birth name. “You, the girl, and your blasphemous offspring are _through_!”

Ben, strong arms struggling to maintain a steady clutch on his saber, which was acting as their only shield against Snoke’s Force lightening, pushed back. “This is between you and me, Snoke!” he avowed, addressing the Supreme Leader informally for the first time in his life. Snoke’s mouth twisted, rankled by such uprising in a man whom he thought he had tamed. “I won’t yield to you! And this won’t end until you or I or both of us are dead!”

Snoke provoked Ben’s ultimatum with another one of his own, its trigger beginning in the form of a heartless, shallow grin. “Then you’d best get ready, my unwise, double-crosser! Prepare to watch your wife and children die! One by one, I shall take them from you! Then I shall deal with _you_!”

With a wordless command that had been directed underhandedly, and without any anticipation on Ben’s part, a string of hidden doors along the walls suddenly slid open, revealing seven armed guards who had been stationed behind their barriers. Each wore individually personalised chrome masks, sharp blades or sabers attached to their belts and used for combat. They swiftly stepped through the thresholds to flank the Supreme Leader and surround Ben and Amidala from all sides.

Ben’s blood began pumping twice as fast, for, even amidst the darkness, he recognised their armoury well. They were the remnants of what had once been an imposing group of warriors whom Ben, himself, had formed under the First Order: the highly skilled, highly deadly Knights of Ren. Two original members had survived the First Order’s collapse and were seasoned fighters, but the rest Ben had had to freshly recruit in the early days of the Proclamation. None of them showed the faintest hesitation at coming for their commander—at least, not at the off—for, like him, they, too, had been trained to answer to the Supreme Leader first and above all others.

Amidala clawed at Ben’s back and left arm, the feeblest cry escaping her mouth. She was utterly defenceless, without a lightsaber or other suitable weaponry to take part in a fight.

Unable to disengage from Snoke’s Force lightening assault without risking electrocution and causing bodily harm to Amidala as well, Ben shifted his duel stance, stepped backward, and ropped an arm across his daughter’s chest, yanking her tighter against him. With his saber hand, he fought to maintain a safeguard using his saber, the only thing keeping them alive.

“Kill the youngling,” Snoke callously commanded of his knights, that death warrant seizing Ben’s heart and threatening to flat-line it, “and bring the rest of his good-for-nothing family to me! We shall execute them here! But Ren’s _mine_ to finish!”

* * *

**Three and a Half Years Earlier**

**Jakku**

Rey exited the Falcon’s cockpit access tunnel at an unhurried pace, her emotions swerving and disjointed, clashing and distant in her mind. In her swaddling arms, Astrid babbled and pointed avidly at the secured door that led to the ship’s escape ramp, eager to explore what lay beyond its blockade.

There was nothing for the tot to get overly excited about and no one understood that more appropriately than the little girl’s mother, for Jakku was a desert wasteland, its occupants some of the worst Rey had encountered in her early years spent on the remote planet; or, so, she had presumed until she abandoned the life of an orphan—a supposed Nobody without any special assets or talents to speak of…except for the one untamed, unnamed that rustled her soul—to fight against a ravaging Sith lord whose backward philosophies were hell-bent on destroying everyone she cared about, her future husband amongst them.

Rey bundled Astrid against her chest and kissed one of her plump cheeks. From behind she detected her two elder children exchanging candid, unimpressed opinions with their father for what was, to them, a rather uneventful family excursion.

“Mum grew up _here_?” Han inquired more than once, glancing up at Ben in disbelief as they sauntered out of the cockpit tunnel together. He couldn’t seem to grasp the notion that his bright, fun-loving mother had once grown up in such a depressing place as this.

“Yes,” Ben answered, exercising patience with their repeated questions and bending forward so as to address them quietly. “Not everyone’s as fortune to have lived where _you_ have, Han.”

“But… But there’s nothing _here_!” the boy stressed, disenchanted and dumbfounded.

Amidala crossed her arms and glowered, looking thoroughly uncomfortable with where they were, particularly once the ramp was lowered. She refused to take another step.

“It’s awfully…drab,” she muttered into her chest, not wishing to have Rey overhear what she _really_ thought of the woman’s home planet.

Ben straightened, furrowed his brow, and pushed his daughter forward with a gentle but non-negotiable nudge. “You two are far too judgmental for your ages, you know that?”

“But Dad—” Han contested.

“‘But’ _nothing_ , Han,” Ben interrupted, sternly shutting his son and daughter down, each of whom had the modesty to, at least, look ashamed. “And keep your voices down. I won’t have you upsetting your mother while we’re here.”

Amidala’s and Han’s unenthused reactions to Jakku weren’t off the mark, really, and Rey had every intention of keeping this visitation brief and to the point. Thus, she smirked into Astrid’s bountiful, soft curls, their smell reminiscent of the riverbank that greeted the tail end of the Solos’ current property line— _Unlike_ this _hell hole_!— and eased herself and her littlest down the ramp, a whiff of dry sand appropriately hitting them in the face.

With Astrid in tow and chatting excitedly about the vast flat terrain that stretched as far as the eye could see, Rey paused at the bottom of the ramp to scan the horizon in depth. The bright sun caused both mother and daughter to squint hard, for something else was set amongst so much empty wilderness: a small, lone gravesite, consisting of ten or so stone patches. Its location stuck out like a heart-string plucked from one’s grief-stricken heart, that which belonged to Rey Solo, and made her, at once, draw inward. Astrid eyed her mother funnily, not quite understanding her need to halt in her tracks.

The coordinates had been correct. _Master Luke wasn’t lying_ , Rey considered, much to her pleasant surprise.

He had instructed her where to locate her parents’ joint grave, though Rey had had to weasel the information out of the Jedi at the time. She hadn’t known until her short time spent on Ahch-To years before that her parents so much as had a final resting spot. The Resistance had gone to extensive lengths to retrieve their bodies and provide them a burial site at all, and yet, their daughter had been left in the dark about the proximity her parents really were to her all along growing up in poverty and isolation.

It was a hard truth that left Rey bitter and teary-eyed at times over the years. She hadn’t felt compelled to revisit Jakku and, more particularly, her parents’ unmarked grave until after having children of her own…and remembering the worst bits from her parentless upbringing.

How many countless nights had she spent as a child gazing up at the stars and yearning—praying—for her mother’s and father’s return? _An exhaustive amount_. She had sought them out there in the big, expanding universe, believing wholeheartedly that they were alive and out there somewhere, never thinking that they might lay dead beneath the dry earth mere miles from her feet. Learning the truth had been difficult to swallow but, over time, Rey came to terms with it.

Aware of Ben at her back and monitoring her every capricious thought and mood swing, Rey refocused on the task at hand and stepped from beneath the shade the Falcon’s overhang provided, feeling the sweltering humidity from the sun’s rays pouring over her exposed neck and shoulders. Ben, along with Amidala and Han, held back a bit, strolling several feet behind Rey and Astrid as they approached the isolated gravesite several yards away.

Astrid requested to be put down and Rey silently obliged, allowing the toddler to skip on ahead of her. The curious little one was much more interested in kicking up sand than surveying the various piles of stone, however, and quickly lost engrossment in being the first to reach the gravesite. Her mother took the lead.

Had she not been informed of where to look, Rey might not have been able to guess which grave belonged to her parents. She headed for the smallest stone pile in the farthest right-hand corner and, resigned, took a knee.

How strangely insignificant their resting place was. Jakku had never been their home, only Rey’s, and, to this day, having the Resistance bury them here hardly seemed appropriate. Perhaps it had been their last request, should anything happen to them, to be near their daughter, even in death? Perhaps, at one point, there had been a plan in place to tell Rey the truth of what had happened to them—that her mother and father weren’t, in fact, as far away and removed as she had long believed—and yet, nothing had ultimately been communicated to her or done about making her aware that her parents were never coming home?

_It doesn’t matter now_ , she reminded herself, especially on this day that was meant to be a final goodbye.

That was the heart of it, really: the actuality didn’t, in fact, make a difference in Rey’s world. She was a proud mother now herself, married to a complicated but beautiful man, and devoted to a family who was at the very centre of her Everything. In her heart, Rey had come to understand that the present was all that truly counted. What she possessed today was leaps and bounds ahead of what she ever could have dreamt for herself as a lost, lonely girl and she was grateful for it, to be sure.

Yet, as Rey knelt before her parents’ grave, slight and silent and indefensible, she was unabashedly reminded of the losses she had been dealt and how damaging growing up without a parental figure had been to her loveless childhood. She thought she had recovered from that misery and sense of abandonment—and, for the most part, she _had_ recuperated—but today’s test was taxing some of that resolve.

Rey’s eyes alighted with unshed tears. For a moment, she considered openly weeping for the unkindness in not being able to remember much of them, for the wonderful grandchildren they would never know or watch prosper, for the awareness they would never have of Han’s astounding flight capabilities at six and a half-years old or Amidala’s ability to consume books like a wet sponge or the utter sweetness that was Astrid’s personality, or for the extraordinary son-in-law they would never come to appreciate and adore as she had. They would never know their daughter’s story; where she had finally found a home.

Amidala and Han sidestepped from the doleful scene, kicking at sand and flinging handfuls of it at each other to pass the time. Their playful antics, as well as Ben’s incessant barking that they “quit acting up”, soon forced Rey from her private musings.

She wiped at the tears that hadn’t been spilt, sniffed to clear her sinuses, and chuckled, softly uttering without turning around, “Let them play. There’s not much else for them to do around here.”

Choosing to respect Rey’s wishes, Ben quieted and awaited his wife’s next move. Astrid, too, bounded away to join in on her siblings’ good fun, finding the gravesite not all that engaging or intriguing enough to warrant exploration.

Reeling in her composure, and no longer finding value in where she knelt, Rey rose and turned to face a concerned Ben. He didn’t hesitate to spread his solid, welcoming arms wide and stretching her mouth into an appreciative smile, Rey accepted being brought into the man’s fold. He wove her into a tight-fitting embrace, one that was extra snug and tender and just what her bruised heart coveted most.

“Are you all right?” he inquired after a rather pregnant pause in which Rey released a detectable sigh. The act lifted her entire body.

Rey opened her eyes to take in the endearing sight of her three children romping around in the middle of the desert, cackling and apparently having the time of their lives. Her fetching smile broadened instantly.

“More than fare, love.”

A moment later, an affectionate kiss came to rest at the top of Rey’s head. She leaned into it, desiring more of the same. Light nuzzling from the tip of Ben’s nose, too, left her heavy heart feeling lighter.

“You have a home now,” Ben assured Rey in a gentle whisper that transcended into her hair. “Your home is where we are.”

_Yes_ , she understood, her spirits livening and transported from a past torment that was Jakku once and for all, _I do. I have a home now._

Rey reached onto tiptoe, returning Ben’s affections with a selection of fervid kisses to the dip in the centre of his exposed collar bone. He shivered, enamoured, and embraced her tighter still.

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

Rey staggered into a corridor behind Han, Chewie, and Blaze, imbalanced and scrambling to a full stop. It wasn’t the suspicious disruption of sirens and flashing red lights that had her startling in her tracks, however, nor the utter darkness they happened upon when the elevator they were using abruptly quit working. Save for Blaze’s flashlight illuminating their way (and verifying the substantial number of personnel operating this floor), the gut feeling swirling in the pit of Rey’s stomach was what was putting her, also, on edge.

The vision had ultimately stopped her in her tracks—hideous and strikingly known to her—of the children being executed by way of various gruelling methods or, in Amidala’s case, succumbing to the Dark Side’s will. Why was she being subjected to these hypothetical visions of torture out of nowhere?

Rey hastily grounded herself, seeking an answer that might reside at the edge of that otherworldly precipice between wakefulness and dreams, between fabrication and reality. _Ben…_ she called to him, reaching out with her Light and calculating, at once, that something was off.

Rey’s eyes snapped open, her attention being cruelly channelled away from where she had sought clarity by Blaze’s fast-moving flashlight which had been leading their escape route towards the main hanger since being derailed by the defunct elevator. He ushered them onward through hushed, tense directions.

“Go easy,” he instructed Han and Chewie, gesturing for them to walk ahead of him, Rey and Astrid as well. “Not too fast.”

Rey’s heart rate accelerated. She released Astrid’s small hand, needing to slow her racing heartbeat, but Astrid whimpered and tugged at her robes. To shush the distressed child, as they couldn’t afford to draw attention to themselves, not even under the guise of darkness, Rey fell to her knees and scooped Astrid into her arms, aware that, in all likelihood, the little one had seen the terrible visions as well.

The power having gone out was, at least, providing a bonus to their escape efforts, sheltering the family’s faces and where they were headed, though Chewie’s seven-foot frame couldn’t be entirely cushioned by the shadows. Personnel were busily rushing past them, however, all but ignoring who they might be as they clambered to figure out the source of the problem, a swift solution, and look for direction from their superiors.

“ _Wait_ ,” Rey called out and Blaze, Han, and Chewie spun around, confused and highly charged. She continued to hold onto Astrid. “Where’s Snoke’s reconfigured throne room?”

“Wha…?”

Rey couldn’t much make out Blaze’s expression, but he sounded startled by the question. “ _Snoke_ ,” she emphasised, trying to keep her voice low and controlled. “I _have_ to find him. Ben and Ami are in trouble—”

“Daddy! Ami!” Astrid whined, obviously frightened, and tore at the back of Rey’s robes.

Rey hushed her daughter, gathering the five-year old closer whilst speaking in a rushed, forcefully confident tone, “I’m going to find them, sweetie, _I promise_. Everything’s going to be all right.”

“Rey,” Blaze interjected, with forced calmness, “what’s going on?”

Rey leapt to her feet, though Astrid continued to pine for her hands and arms and anything she could grab a hold of. “You _need_ to tell me where he is. _Now, Blaze_.”

“I…” Blaze, nervous, pitched his flashlight in the general direction that lay behind her. “That way. First right and then left. Giant decorative doors. You can’t miss it. Well, maybe with this power outage you can…”

Rey gave the area a swift glance over but Blaze was right: there wasn’t much to assess or distinguish without proper lighting. “All right,” she concluded and turned in the direction of Chewie and Blaze. “Give me the flashlight. You know this place better than any of us, Blaze. Get the children to Ben’s ship and wait for us there. If we’re not…” She reluctantly stressed, though she hated having to do so in front of Han and Astrid, “If the situation becomes too dangerous, take off. We’ll seize another ship.”

Han started towards his mother, drawn forward by the sound of her voice. “But Mum—”

“ _No ‘buts’_ , Han.” Rey sensed her son’s advance desist, his body slowly reeling backward by one of Chewie’s firm paws placed on his shoulder. “Look after your sister for me, you understand?”

Han, blinking to try to better see his mother’s collected face, stuttered, “I… I will.”

“Good boy.” She turned towards Blaze, perceiving him to be closest to her, and felt the handle of the flashlight being rammed against her hand. “Get them to safety, Blaze. I’m counting on you…and so is Ben.”

Then Rey sped off, ducking out and around people and using the flashlight to make her way towards her captured husband and daughter. Astrid tried to dash after her, but there was little use in attempting to find her with so many people around and the flashlight dodging in and out of sight. Blaze caught the crafty girl before she could make a break for it.

Rey’s heart sunk at overhearing her daughter’s small wails for her return but, soon enough, they faded amidst the chaos. She careened onward, striving to get to those who needed her now more than ever: Ben and Amidala. She prayed against hope that she wasn’t too late.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 24**

_“My mother is pure radiance. She is the sun I can touch and kiss and hold without getting burnt.”_

—Sanober Khan

* * *

_Leia made the slowest progression of all frantically running Resistance personnel to the front of their bare-boned but holding, old Rebel Alliance post, eying the outline of the Millennium Falcon over with two mirroring thoughts in mind: nauseating trepidation that had her stomach in knots…and the most desperate of hopes, of which she had clung to for more than a decade._

_From the outside, and as their enemy had (rather stupidly) underestimated about the Falcon in its past battle-worn history, the infamous light freighter appeared, by all accounts, harmless. The choking exhaust from the engine left some Resistance members coughing and shielding their mouths, whilst others unconsciously raised their weapons in the air, prepared to fire upon the ship’s occupants, though their allegiance to their general was eminent; but no one was taking any chances._

_There would be no need for a fight here—at, least, that’s what the Resistance assumed—but a heart-pounding Leia Organa-Solo wasn’t quite so convinced…yet. She knew Rey and her long lost brother were aboard the Falcon, and that should have offered her nothing outside of complete confidence in this re-acquaintance, except for something else—some_ one _else, rather—who now had her orderly brain scrambling for how to proceed._

Ben…

_Standing several feet behind her surviving staff and looking the epitome of calm and righteousness, Leia didn’t so much as twitch a muscle as the ship’s exhaust momentarily blinded her ability, as well as everyone else’s, to distinguish the newly arriving freighter from the interior of their base. To an ordinary observer, her surveillance of the Falcon looked like a patient waiting game, anticipating Rey and Chewie to descend the ramp and report their completion (or failure) of their mission as soon as they had finished powering down the ship; but for Leia, that same careful, outwardly collected scrutiny overshadowed a much deeper, far more detrimental war her soul battled night and day._

_Han’s beloved Falcon was a stinging reminder of one of Leia’s greatest loves and most recent losses, but it spoke of only one paramount tragedy in the woman’s life. The other, unbeknownst to the rest of the Resistance, lay beyond the Falcon’s walls, evasive and retreating from her Light like an abused, caged animal wishing to flee its confinements. His Light, well-remembered but far smaller than last she had seen of its brilliance, suffocated by a monster who had kept her, too, up at all hours of the night in years’ past, curled itself into a protective ball at her inquiry. That defensive streak of his was a heart-wrenching reminder of a once petrified, defenceless young child whom Snoke, to this day, continued to pray upon as an adult: her son; her only child; the light of her life._

Ben…

_Leia had sensed a disturbance in the Force as soon as the Falcon entered the isolated planet of Crait, paving its way through the clouds towards the deserted outpost she had led the Resistance to; or, rather, what was left of their cause. She immediately felt Ben’s presence, torn and shaky and unwelcoming, before the flight controllers (still in working order but terribly outdated) detected the ship on their satellites; prior to Chewie speaking in Wookie over the intercom to request entry through the creaky, massive metal doors erected into the side of a mountain which acted as the main entry and exit route._

_Leia, disturbed by the stunning detection of her son on board the Falcon, tried to straighten in the control room and take a few deep breaths prior to their arrival. Breathing exercises proved entirely unhelpful, however, for no amount of preparation could emotionally equip her for such a pivotal moment as this._

_She had prayed for such a reunion, for what so many had deemed an ‘impossibility’ for many years: Ben Solo’s return. Now—or so it would seem—she and Ben were about to confront one another at last._

No… It _can’t_ be?

_Yet, as the Falcon’s rumbling engine stilled, there, Ben could be perceived within, pacing and attempting to hide from her, much like he used to do as a mere boy when he knew he was in for a ‘good talking to’ from his mother, usually for sounding off during one of her tiresome Senate meetings, for acting out against his tutors, or for not listening to the nanny whenever he was left in someone else’s charge but her own. To a guilt-ridden Leia, that had been far too often the case for Ben in childhood: an endless series of neglectful hand offs rather than remaining with the two people he needed most in his troubled life, his parents._

_Each blinding step forward felt like another eternity in the pursuit of the return of her son, of another despondent hope too quickly dashed by those who believed Leia’s life and blood was nothing more than a murderer._

Ben…

_The last of the exhaust from the freighter lifted and curious personnel, taking note of Leia’s forward steps, moved aside to give her headway, though they kept their guns close at hand to protect._ _Leia was at the front of the swarm of gathering staff once the ramp to the Falcon lowered. The tall and petite forms of Chewie and Rey emerged and raced down the ramp to greet the general in a flurry of warm hugs that she welcomed._

_Leia craned her neck to see past Chewie’s mound of fur, spotting a third member of their party now descending the ramp, and at a much slower gait. The faintest gasp escaped her lungs. The hood of the man’s cloak concealed his face, but she identified a trim, grey beard and a slightly sloped mouth._

“ _Luke,” Leia greeted her brother graciously, lovingly, despite the purposeful distance manifesting in her eyes. She refused to give way to emotion; there would be private opportunities for that outpouring later._

_Reading her qualms that were mixed with enduring love for him, Luke stepped before her, swallowed his pride and removed his hood, presenting his sister with a heartening half smile. “Leia,” he whispered and enfolded her small hands in his. “It’s…” he paused, stumped as to what to say precisely, for a lifetime existed between them, both together and parted, “been a long time.”_

“ _That, it has.” Leia squeezed Luke’s hands in return and leaned in for a hug. “I’ve been searching for you…_ everywhere _…”_

“ _I know,” Luke acknowledged quietly into her shoulder, his conveyance wrought with regret. His face, too, was repentant once Leia reared back and released his hands. “Leia, I’m so sorry. I owe you so many explanations—”_

“ _Yes, you_ do _.” That naturally authoritative air that stemmed from a lifetime of giving orders snapped, its effect direct and cutting, and Luke flinched. Leia raised her head and spoke more appealingly to him, “We have so much to discuss, you and I. We need you, Luke._ I _need you…now more than ever…”_

_Luke nodded acceptingly, an expression of abashed modesty lining his rugged face, but his regard soon transformed from avid warmth and uncertainty to profound, greater dubiousness about something far more pressing. “Leia,” he issued softly, “he’s come. Ben.” The pause that followed the utterance of her son’s name strengthened the magnitude of the moment in her heart. Leia’s rich, brown eyes swarmed with a fluctuation of emotions. “He’s here.”_

_It seemed to take Leia considerable time to respond but she finally did, stating faintly, “I know.” Luke gestured for her to take his arm but her gaze, resolute and critical, switched from him to a spot past his shoulder, its aim beyond the Falcon’s ramp. “No…” she asserted, though her voice was strained and hushed. “I’ll go alone.”_

“ _General.” It was Rey who suddenly spoke up and blocked her advance, sounding respectful but urgent, “He’s…a bit out of sorts. This is a lot for him.”_

“ _I understand that,” Leia acknowledged, sounding cooller than she felt._

“ _I’d like to come with you, all the same,” Rey insisted, the wavering expression she wore piquing Leia’s nerves._

_Luke, too, surprised his sister by joining in on his apprentice’s defence. “He trusts her. Well,” he tried for an understanding, yet still greatly vague, explanation, “they…trust each other. You’ll do better with him if Rey’s present, I think.”_

_Not comprehending whatever_ that _meant, and not wishing to delay seeing her son a moment longer, Leia simply encouraged Rey to lead the way up the ramp. “All right, then. Please…take me to him.”_

_Rey complied, requesting that Chewie stand down, as the Wookie was grumbling about wishing to come, if only to offer her and Leia added support, by patting his furry arm. She swept past Leia and Luke and headed onto the Falcon, with Leia dawdling a moment longer to command to her staff to “get back to their positions”. Then she followed Rey up the ramp, with Luke close on her heel._

_Stepping onto the Falcon for the first time in years was a strange euphoria;_ a _déjà vu that hit Leia like being zapped by Force lightening. She hadn’t wanted to chance overstepping her boundaries by inspecting the ship the last time she had seen it—Han had been working out another faulty compartment or other, which Leia couldn’t recall specifically, prior to his ill-fated journey to Starkiller base—and the jolt of that memory left a throbbing pain in the centre of her chest that couldn’t be squashed. She flexed her hand to keep from pressing that same hand to her heart and let the remembrance pass over her, quiet and souring._

_She had kept her footing—and her heart—in check at the time, allowing Han to bring her into an embrace that echoed of wishful sentiments no longer obtainable. They were simply too different; the circumstances too complicated. She had beseeched him to bring Ben home should he encounter their son on Starkiller base…_

And then I sent him to his death.

_Thankfully—or not—Leia was distracted from that sobering thought by the stirring of a volatile Ben close by. Either he had read his mother’s unfortunate recollection or he was reacting to the passing thought of Han. With anger and resentment._

_Regardless, Leia’s legs seemed to weave of their own accord through the interior of the winding freighter towards the strike of fury, her gaze straight and narrow, despite the anxiety building on the inside. Her feet slowed to a standstill once they had reached the confined galley area._

_Here, Rey, too, was holding back from venturing any farther. She turned to Leia, as if to assess that the general was fit to carry on, and cast her attention upon a darkened corner just to the left of the stove. She gently called out a questioning, “Ben?” into the darkness and everyone, including Leia, collectively held their breaths._

_It took Leia a moment to realise that the lofty shadow in the corner wasn’t a shadow at all. Ben, hunched sideways and crouching thanks to the ceilings being too low to contain his oversized frame, twisted to stand upright, and, at last, made his physical presence known. Leia skidded backwards at the shadow of the unrecognisable man, whom she couldn’t identify by such intimidating height alone, but then Ben stepped forward and a ray of artificial light caught the scar that ran diagonally across his face—a violent marking that, to Leia, was new and hardened what had otherwise been beautifully soft features—and, finally, Leia was looking upon her son with her own eyes._

_For a heart-stopping moment, all fear and restlessness trickled to the back of Leia’s senses, replaced by a cruel solace for the boy who had drifted from her so many years ago. It was like being reunited with a severed limb, neatly and effortlessly sowed back into place, and yet, there was nothing pretty about this overdue reunion. The parts didn’t quite fit together._

_Leia swallowed against the swelling in her throat, and her voice broke once she spoke his name aloud. “Ben.”_

_She hardly recognised the sound of herself and, evidently, neither did he, for his murky eyes veered from the ground and back to her several times over, as if they couldn’t comprehend whom they were looking at. Their beady contemplation imparted a mistrustful judgment which, too, fractured some of the badly glued pieces of Leia’s heart._

_Why should she have anticipated any other reaction aside from doubt and, perhaps, hatred, from the son who believed his parents had abandoned him to the Dark Side of his soul? Her legs flowed towards him in spite of these heart-wrenching predictions, only halting at Ben’s knee-jerk reaction, which was to, at once, withdrawal back to the corner from whence he had been obscured. Her hand rose and reached for him, causing Ben to solidify where he stood, still seen, and yet, untouchable._

“ _No, please,” she choked, pleaded. “Ben…”_

_It wasn’t in Leia’s nature to beg—she had always been the stubborn type to opt to die rather than grovel at anyone’s feet—but in this poignant instance between her and the one person who had been her entire Universe, even as he teared through that Universe and set it on fire star by star, Leia didn’t give less of a damn if she appeared weak nor if showing tears might cause Ben to loath her more. She loved him and would have sliced every part of herself in half should he demand it…and she wouldn’t put it past him to carry the intent to make her suffer. She would welcome it as she welcomed him: fully and with every breath she had left in her small but capable body._

_Ben bestowed no reply—or any recognition of his mother’s feelings—though his Darkness, which he had been fighting to assert dominance over, flared and foamed at the mouth as she drew closer. Her Light was steadfast in its want to be near, loving, disinclined to fight, and determined to take his brutality on the cheek…if she must. He stared without seeing her, however, his vision only that of barbaric red flames, and missed the flood of emotions that fell over his mother’s pained, fragile face._

“ _Oh, Ben…” she murmured, with the echo of a great sadness that touched every corner of the room._

_Ascertaining Ben’s rage was easily managed. He may have appeared unaffected much outwardly, but Leia_ knew _he was ascertaining every ounce of her feeble emotional state, sounding off like drums against every mistake she had made when it had come to his welfare: the heartache she had caused him in sending him away to his uncle; the sadistic irony in her refusal to address the Dark Side of her family lineage and how it directly correlated to Ben’s struggles; her utter inability to apprehend the monster who had molested her son’s soul night after night, with her knowledge, even as he cried out to her for help and she, to his grisly way of thinking, did nothing to put a stop to the suffering._

“ _Oh, Ben…”_

_She would have apologised till the end of days…if he would eventually accept it. She had imagined her apology numerous times over in her mind, most of which involved her prostrating to her grown son on her hands and knees, and in countless different forms, but now an ‘I’m sorry’ felt puny and insignificant to the abundance of shame Leia carried on her shoulders. She had pushed that guilt away in order to cope—in order to live with herself—but that condemnation was having none of her lamentations now and, by all appearances, neither was Ben._

_Ben and his Dark energy shrunk from Leia’s outstretched hand, snarling and wary of her Light and love. As though that same hand had been smacked in order to halt its advance, Leia lowered it to her side, though it fidgeted, yearned, to touch what had long been denied to her; to, perhaps, cradle her son’s tormented face or stroke his cheek, no longer smooth like a child’s but bristly like a man’s, or tousle his thick locks which had grown too long._

“ _I…” Leia hitched a breath, catching the desperation in her voice; it wouldn’t be assuaged. “I’m so glad you’re here, Ben.”_

“ _Are you?” he challenged, spiteful, breathing forcefully through flared nostrils. “Are you_ really _, Mother?”_

_Although the question held no malice, there was no love in it either nor by the icy manner with which he addressed her. That delivery burned Leia’s bones. She set her jaw tighter and held back what would have resulted in an innumerable amount of tears._

“ _I… I am.”_

_She saw Ben’s jaw clench and sighed. He didn’t believe her, and why should he? She was his mother, and she had failed him in every possible way that Leia Organa-Solo could fall short of motherly expectations._

_“Please…come. We can make up a room for you.”_

_Ben’s leery eyes darted from Leia to Rey, as if he required the young woman’s confirmation that his mother’s intentions were trustworthy. Leia did her best to ignore the harshness in that slight._

“ _Please, Ben,” she entreated him in a dejected, tightly construed whisper, “come…with me…”_

* * *

“ _She meant a_ prison _cell, more like, not a room.”_

“ _This is hardly a prison,” Rey snorted. “She doesn’t know you yet, Ben. I mean, she_ knows _you, yes—you’re her son—but she doesn’t trust you in the same way we do. Not yet.”_

“ _Oh, so it’s ‘we’ now?” he derided, with a long, spine-inducing sneer that had Rey holding back a retort. “When did that miraculous change in my uncle come about? Mid-flight; or was it directly_ after _you stopped him from trying to murder me a second time?”_

_Rey rolled her eyes and flopped away from the invasive glass window, arms crossed securely over her chest. She didn’t care much for the topic of the esteemed Jedi Master and his questionable actions when it had come to his nephew and the treatment of his sister, so she shoved it away, as she often did, to somewhere else._

“ _Don’t be dramatic, Ben.”_

_With a sigh, Rey plopped onto the portable cot next to Ben and dismissed his sustaining scowl, amused, rather, with how the man’s gigantic body, now hunched forward, with the toes of his boots curled inward, appeared far too large for such an average-sized bed. She half wondered if his legs would fit once he lay down or if they would dangle over the edge as they had with the mattress she and Ben had shared on Ahch-To._

_Her heart skipped a beat at remembering such intimacy from the island. She playfully nudged Ben’s arm._

“ _Besides, this is a class above a prison cell. You have an actual bed to sleep on.”_

“ _And an audience to watch me sleep, apparently,” Ben deadpanned, staring aversively at the glass window in front of them, where a few unfamiliar faces were peering back, intrigued but undoubtedly agitated to have the former First Order commander under such close jurisdiction._

_Just outside was a low lit corridor, with the base’s main control room roughly ten feet away on the opposite end, also visible behind protected glass. Leia and Luke stood in the centre, leaning against a lone desk conveniently sandwiched in between Ben and the Resistance. A guard would have likely been stationed there otherwise, Ben surmised, but his mother was evidently wishing to control the situation where he was concerned._ _She liked monitoring. He knew this about her well. It tamed her emotions, having to focus all of her attention on something else; something crucial to a cause bigger than her._

_Rey snorted again, this time at the behaviour of clumsily observing staff members, and kept her gaze on Ben’s profile. “It could be worse, and you know it.”_

“ _It’s only because your Resistance has greatly decreased in numbers,” he pointed out, giving a general air of disapproval to the dingy room they occupied, “and lacking in proper interrogation resources that I haven’t been confined.” His eyes lastly settled upon Rey, their regard far less gall than they were with the rest of the Resistance’s thoroughly lacking settings; or what little, so far, he had been able to scope of the place. “If the war was going in your favour, things would be vastly different for me right about now.”_

_Rey reared back. “Won’t you give your own mother a little more credit than that?”_

_Ben’s lips curled into a suggestive smile. “Can’t you ever acknowledge things that make you uncomfortable?”_

_Annoyed by his throwing the subject back onto her, and yet, too easily goaded by such direct questioning, Rey hoisted a hand firmly on her hip and stared him down. “Such as?” she challenged defensively._

_Ben’s eyes glimmered with unreleased provocation. “_ Us _, for example.”_

* * *

“ _What is it with those two?”_

_Luke hacked into his cup of tea and rubbed at his seemingly sore throat. “I haven’t the slightest,” he croaked, an outlandish lie Leia saw straight through, particularly when she proceeded to scrutinise her withholding brother in that gifted, perceptively sharp manner of hers._

“Oh _?” she challenged, to which Luke blushed and hastened to take another gulp of his lukewarm tea, diverting his gaze in the process._

_Content to let it go—for now—Leia resumed her casual watch of Ben and Rey from behind the glass, a move Luke silently welcomed; but the quarrelling pair seemed to have forgotten they were under a microscope. Their heads wedged closer and closer together the more whatever heated row they were having manifested, their faces flushed, their mouths fast-moving and their hands highly animated._

“ _Did you train her as well?” Leia asked offhandedly a few moments later, not tearing her gaze away from the glass._

“ _To the best of my abilities.” Luke sighed disparagingly. “Rey can be…headstrong, but she picks things up like a—”_

“ _No,_ before _, I meant.”_

“ _Oh.”_

_Luke’s tongue was caught by hesitation. He took a moment to study his sister’s latest intricate hairstyle—two perfectly formed buns at the back of her head and held together by a single, interweaving braid—uncertain of where she was headed with this low-key interrogation of hers._

_“Yes, I did. She knew Ben…”_

“ _When he was still Ben,” Leia finished for him in a clearly pained, soft-spoken whisper._

_Luke’s carefully crafted mask wilted. “He_ is _still Ben, Leia. He’s still in there.”_

“ _Did you see the way he looked at me in that galley? As if I were worse than Snoke; worse than anyone who’s ever mistreated him…”_

“ _Nonsense.”_

_Luke noted the tightness in Leia’s shoulders. They were trembling. She hadn’t turned from the window since Ben’s arrival, despite constant interruptions from staff seeking her approval or instructions on militia-related matters. She visibly swallowed but held her head high._

“ _I’m not quite ready to have every last hope dashed, Luke. I want to believe you’re right. I_ want _to believe in my son…”_

_Luke, taken aback by his sister’s sudden bout of candidness, proposed heartily, “So,_ believe _, Leia, as you always have.”_

“ _So much in him has changed; so much in him is sullen and broken.”_

“ _But not beyond repair,” Luke patiently countered her._

“ _He’s been away too long, Luke.” Her voice marginally cracked. “There’s too much animosity towards me he hasn’t released.”_

“ _And too much guilt in_ you _, I fear.” Luke stroked a caring thumb across Leia’s elbow. “Meet in the middle.”_

“ _I fear I…I’m too late.”_

“ _It’s_ never _too late, sis.” Witnessing the burdens she carried so heavily, he pressed, though his words were somewhat reluctantly offered, “Leia, we_ all _failed Ben, not just you… We each have something to atone for here. We can only move forward from this moment, Ben included.”_

_That insightful remark finally drew Leia out of her shame-filled bout of moroseness. She blinked and ripped her gaze away from her son, who had leapt to his feet, criss-crossed his hands behind his head, and stalked to the nearest wall, supposedly content to stare at something bare and immobile rather than Rey’s freshly disgusted frown._

“ _What do you mean, Luke?” she asked, angst-ridden, catching her brother’s nervous tick._

“ _I…”_

“ _Oh, you’re_ impossible _!” came an exasperated huff from Rey that disrupted hers and Luke’s chatter._

_Rey slammed the warded, clicking door on her way out of Ben’s makeshift holding cell and was instantly met by Leia’s and Luke’s intrusive stares, as well as several other raised eyebrows from personnel who happened to be passing by. The colour in her face brightened._

_“Sorry, General,” she mumbled, finding it trying to maintain eye contact. “I was just… Erm, I mean, I was trying to…” Peeved, she spat whilst locking a foot to the ground, “Your son’s in a bloody mood and I’m_ tired _!”_

_Luke gulped down the remainder of his tea to keep from laughing, rather determined to stay out of this latest uproar between his wilful apprentice and grumpy nephew, whilst Leia loosened her shoulders and ordered her too slow-poking staff to quicken their pace back to their stations. They scurried along as commanded, leaving the corridor soon vacant once more, save for one unexpected addition to their party who had gone unnoticed until now._

“Rey _?”_

_Rey’s distracted anger deflated at the sound of that voice and her eyes followed suit, expanding as they took in an equally surprised Finn standing feet behind Luke and Leia and wearing a dangling, open mouth._

“Finn _!” she exclaimed._

_The two best mates rushed at each other at the same time and speed, bounding into one another’s arms as though they were the closest of siblings rather than recently acquainted friends. Each dissolved into a gust of eager chatter._

“ _We’ve been so worried about you!” Finn explained, thunderstruck to be embracing Rey again. He continued gaping as he reared back to inspect her more closely, and she did likewise._

“ _I was worried about_ you _!” Her hands slid up and down Finn’s face and arms. “You’re – You’re all right! Oh, thank goodness!” She threw her arms around Finn a second time, sending him off balance, but he swiftly recovered. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Finn! I didn’t want to leave you but I had to find—”_

“ _Master…Luke, I presume?” Finn suggested, having turned his intrigued eyes towards the only other person in the corridor who could possibly inhibit such a legend: the oddly-dressed monk draped in long, beige-coloured robes and a beard._

_Master Luke nodded, though he looked a bit unhinged at being addressed. “That would be me, yes.”_

_Rey released Finn of her fierce grip and smiled encouragingly. “He’s here to help.” She clapped Finn on the shoulders. “Oh, but there’s so much I have to tell you! I’ve been training and—”_

“ _What’s_ he _doing here?” Finn interrupted in a low, aggressive tone this time that, for a moment, silenced Rey._

_She noted how the former Stormtrooper’s eyes had hardened and were no longer looking at_

_her._ _A reluctant Rey followed the trail of her friend’s glare, her heart sinking at the paralleled glower that loomed back at them; or at Finn, rather. Ben, looking vulnerable and exposed, and with heightened colour in his cheeks, maintained hostile eye contact with Finn from behind his glass cage._

“ _Finn…” Rey softly pleaded._

_Finn, in turn, whirled around to address Leia. “Why’s Kylo Ren here, General? Was he captured?” His eyes widened, unnerved. “Did he— Did he_ sneak _his way inside? How’d he get in here?”_

_Leia inhaled a breath but kept a level head as she revealed, speaking patiently, “He’s my son, actually.”_

_Finn startled. His stony reserve faltered. Rey gently touched his arm, but the man was too engrossed in his own thoughts, trying to process the rapid release of information he was being fed._

“ _And he came of his own choosing,” Master Luke piped in as well. “No one forced his hand.”_

_Rey, sensing Finn’s rising temper and desperate to reach him before he exploded, spoke in a reassuring, slight voice, “He came…with us.”_

_At last, Finn spun around and faced her, still in obvious shock. “With_ you _?”_

_It was accusatory rather than searching. Rey winced and latched tighter onto his arm._

“ _Yes… I – I know this is all rather confusing,” she emphasised as Finn’s eyes resumed their scathing surveillance of Ben, who was standing perfectly still behind the glass, his glare, too, unwavering, “but, trust me, Finn, he’s all right.” She gave Ben a brief, censorious look over as well, adding, with bite out of the side of her mouth, “Frustrating as all getup but…he’s_ more _than all right, actually.”_

_Finn closed his mouth and clamped his fists. He said nothing more but his piercing expression carried his unchanged sentiments._

* * *

_Leia was prodded awake late in the evening by a low-ranking, jittery-acting officer. The young man, whose age couldn’t be much older than Ben’s, jostled backward and righted himself as the general’s head rose from the desk, eyes respectfully cast towards the floor. He was accompanied by an energetic astromech droid who extended one of its mechanical prods to poke the officer in the rear, causing him to jump farther back._

“Ouch _! Bugger off!_ _I – I’m sorry to disturb you, General,” the officer sputtered, doing his best to disregard the naughty droid, “but Master Luke insisted that I wake you by midnight if you weren’t up and about. He asked that I relieve you.”_

“ _Midnight, you say?” Leia rubbed gingerly at her forehead. “Is that how late it is?” The astromech droid wobbled forward, beeped a couple times, and Leia, though spent, titled her head in understanding. “Is that so, R2?” She provided a small smirk. “Nice to see he’s already putting my best droids to use. You can tell Luke that I’m not ready to retire just yet.”_

_She craned her neck to peer up at the apologetic officer from her slouched position behind the desk she had been standing at for most of the day. “Thank you, Officer Blake, but I’ll take the night shift.”_

_The officer named_ _Blake chanced a glance into the general’s eyes, his own somewhat combative. “But, General—”_

_Leia waved him off. “I can handle it. Go on. Get some sleep, Officer. We’re all going to be in need of rest, I’m afraid, and there won’t be much of it in the days ahead.”_

_Blake dithered for a couple seconds more, his pause long enough that R2D2 wheeled around and stabbed him again in the rear. Blake jerked, cursed at the droid under his breath, and obeyed, shuffling down the empty corridor and disappearing around a corner, nursing his right buttocks._

_Leia’s smile extended to the feisty droid. “There are nicer ways to go about getting what you want, R2.”_

_R2D2 made a high-pitched noise that sounded disagreeable. His head twirled in the direction of Ben’s holding cell, as did Leia’s, for abrupt, muffled mumbling coming from that direction had distracted them. Leia’s lighter air diminished like being doused in frigid water, her smile replaced by a knowing frown._

“ _Like I said,” she cautioned whilst slowly rising to her feet, her short legs stiff from having sat so long, “_ I _can handle it, and you can tell Luke that from me. Go on, you.”_

_R2D2 beep-bopped and glided off in the same direction as Blake, allowing Leia to tend to the one person whom she had been longing to speak to alone, and yet, was crippled by how to appropriately approach: her son. Either to her advantage or yet to be disadvantage, they were now by themselves and Ben was awake in his cell. How long he had been wakeful Leia didn’t know; but at present, he was out of bed and in the same clothes he had arrived in, though they were quite ruffled and wrinkled. His anxious, tall form paced back and forth beneath low lights that kept him visible at all times._

_He seemed oblivious to Leia watching him; or, perhaps, he didn’t care whether his distant mother observed his questionable behaviour or not. Every so often he waved a hand in the air, raked his fingers through his hair, or scowled pointedly at something in the room; something that appeared to be following him as he retreated from corner to corner. He grumbled occasionally under his breath words Leia couldn’t make out, as though he was having a conversation and not with himself._

_To the naked eye, there was no one else there save for Ben, but Leia understood better, and his conduct made her motherly instincts braver. She sucked in a shaky breath and advanced to his cell, entering at a moment when Ben’s back was conveniently turned and they were a safe distance apart. The door clicked to signal her entrance and Ben whirled around, rattled by the interruption; he had evidently been too distracted to sense her coming._

_Leia cautiously stepped into his cell, allowing the door to drift shut behind her, and surveyed him for a moment in silence._ _Sadly, time hadn’t been at all kind to her son, and the purple bags beneath Ben’s eyes, dense and bothersome, were but a minuscule testament to a much deeper set of struggles, as were the unsettling web of emotions readable in those dark, disquieted eyes of his. He was pasty and shattered from many a sleepless night, hollow and the embodiment of suffering, and Leia was at a loss as to how to begin to help heal the boy who had grown into a damaged man—a stranger—in their many years spent separated by space and stars._

“ _You’ve grown,” she found herself remarking upon his height and build. She felt foolish for saying so after the fact, however, and momentarily shifted her gaze about; but her eyes couldn’t stray from Ben for long._

_The crook of his mouth convulsed, as if annoyed, and his reply was grating and reminded Leia of those early, brittle teenage years before she had sent her moody son off to train with Luke. “That tends to happen as children get older.”_

_Leia forced a weak-mannered smile that easily fractured at the seams. “Yes…” She chanced another step towards him and roped her arms around herself to keep steady. “Is – Is your bed uncomfortable?”_

_Ben’s eyebrows folded together; his face was the only part of him willing to move at the moment. “What?”_

“ _Your bed,” Leia quietly stressed. “Is it all right? Is it too stiff?”_

_Ben glanced at the unremarkable cot and back to his mother, unfollowing. “It’s fine.”_

“ _Oh. Good.”_

_Leia made to ground herself, willing her nerves to relax. Once she felt slightly more settled, she searched Ben’s face anew, overwhelmed by the underlying heartache and exhaustion from a burdened life she sensed and saw in him, and yet, the isolated pain was his burden, not hers. How she wished she could take it from him, in spite of their agonising estrangement._

_She wasn’t ready to tackle their issues all in one go—there was a galaxy-worth of distress and trauma between them that would need considerable sorting through in order to make amends—and decided on a straightforward question, one which she hoped Ben would be willing to answer._ “ _What made you decide to come back?”_

_Ben’s gaze was haughty but measured. “That’s a rather loaded question.”_

“ _But one we need to get to the bottom of.”_

_He cocked his head, questioning. “‘We’?”_ _Leia maintained an even-kilted expression, though the emotion in her eyes waffled._ “ _Ah…” It was acknowledged with a tint of mockery, as he scanned her petite form up and down, “but not you,_ Mother _.”_

_Leia stretched her neck, unwilling to let the pain of her son addressing her so frostily show. “Of course me, too.”_

“ _But you want to protect_ them _first and foremost.” He snorted and slid towards the wall, away from her; she felt his Dark energy surging. “You always wanted to protect everyone else before me. I was an after thought.”_

_Leia’s shoulders collapsed. “That isn’t fair, Ben,” she counselled, unaware of how wounded she sounded. “I_ did _want to protect you—”_

“ _You’re a liar,” he hissed, the Darkness within him rising and rearing its ugly head. Leia’s Light held firm, jerking at being so crudely spoken to. “You, Uncle Luke…” His voice turned slighter as he nearly whimpered, “Dad… You were_ all _liars. I was never worth saving.”_

_Leia’s Light half extended towards him, wishing to comfort, to cradle, but Ben’s Darkness retracted, evading her grasp. It withered and shrunk back to his side, disabled by her warmth in the face of long-held resentment._

“ _Ben,” she lovingly implored, her eyes staring with open anguish and dismay, “you couldn’t be more wrong, either about yourself or us.” She paused, heartbroken. “Do you_ really _hate us that much?”_

_Ben retreated farther into himself, his expression laborious but constricted. “I don’t hate anyone,” he eventually muttered at the ground._

“ _Because we love_ you _. Desperately. Always have.” Her words caught in her throat. “Your father loved you so very much.” Ben twitched, as though she had slapped him across the cheek, and turned away from her, prompting Leia to be both frank and (hopefully) soothing when she tacked on, “He won’t leave you, you know. You’re his son. He’d never.”_

_Ben’s upper body stiffened. He snipped to the wall, “I’ll make him go.”_

_Leia shook her head and, to the surprise of the pair of them, she chuckled. “I’ve tried. It doesn’t work.”_

_Ben peered at her over his shoulder, intrigued, but catching sight of her entirely too open, understanding look grieved him. He was reminded of the exceptionally regal beauty from his childhood, tough as nails when it was so often required of her but sweet and doting on him as a mother could be…when she was present._

“ _He shouldn’t be coming to you,” he said. “You didn’t…end his life.”_

_Leia’s resilience withered a little more at that. She unlocked her arms and replied through a shuddering breath, “Who knows what your father’s reasons are for coming to me at all hours of the night but…he haunts me, too.” She swiped some non-existing dirt from her trousers, as if to scrape at the pitiless end to her grief, whilst Ben’s eyes remained glued to her, sidelong. Then she offered him another fractured smile. “You might be happy to hear that we don’t bicker much anymore. We mostly talk about…you; how much we’ve missed you…”_

“ _Then you’ve been wasting valuable time, both here_ and _in the afterlife,” Ben spat and turned to face the wall once more, silently dismissing her._

_Leia drew in another intentionally long breath that released from her in an audible sigh. She sunk onto his unoccupied cot and, staring at the back of Ben’s head, patted at the empty spot next to her, eyes beseeching._

_Ben, entirely ill at ease, glanced over his shoulder again. Leia gestured him over to her with more pats to his cot._

_“Please?” she requested, with the stoic politeness of a hostess._

_Ben, though overtly discomforted by the idea of venturing any closer, considered his mother’s proposal. She motioned a third time for him to have a seat which, at last, convinced him to do as she pitifully desired. He strolled to the cot in a mere two strides and stiffly sat._

_Increasingly uneasy, Ben slid closer to the side of his pillow. Not knowing what to do with his hands either, he rubbed them a few times on his thighs before settling them over the top of his knees. He could feel the weight of his mother’s stare on him, evaluating every physical marking and crevice, many of which had materialised after they had parted ways._

_It was, at first, disarming to Leia to take in how abundantly her son had, indeed, grown and evolved. His exceedingly long legs spread nearly the entire length of her body, even more so once seated and awkwardly bent. It was hard to fathom that such a well-built man had once suitably fit in her arms, wherein she had coddled and kissed him until he was all but screaming to be set free. She had physically overpowered the former First Order commander at one time and been able to smooch him to her heart’s content, even as he wiggled and writhed against her love tokens._

_Now, Ben Solo could probably snap the general like a twig, and yet, Leia wasn’t intimidated by such largeness, merely ashamed of how much of her son growing into a man she had sorely missed out on; but there were still elements of the child she had reared and cherished seated at her side. There remained aspects of someone who had been forced into growing up well before he should have; echoes of a lost, little boy trapped in a man’s body._

_Unconsciously, Leia reached out to touch his face—one that remained precious and dearest to her, regardless of the horrors that face had since committed—and though he hadn’t been looking at her, Ben’s head snapped sideways and reared back. His warning-like stare left her hand hanging in mid-air._

“ _May I?” she proposed, begged, not detecting the frailty in her own plea._

_Ben’s jaw tightened, eyes turning, and then, much to her relief, he shrugged. He stared at his boots rather than at her_ _and complied in a small voice, “I guess.”_

_Leia had come too far in finally retrieving Ben to be put off by his lack of enthusiasm, so she extended her reach and, at long last, touched his right cheek, polished but for that savage scar that cut into the unevenness of his skin. Her fingertips hovered there, lightly grazing over each fine line, searching, remembering, aching for a past that could never be._

_She wasn’t aware of holding her breath—or that her heart was beating twice as fast, as was Ben’s—and_ _barely managed to contain a sob. That ability worsened when she felt him shiver and recoil under her touch, an act borne out of tenderness and an all-consuming love for him rather than abusive in its claims over his soul. What little of his Dark energy that remained in the room shrivelled, determined to preserve itself and keep Leia from corrupting it at its source._

“ _Oh, Ben…” Leia bemoaned, stricken by the purgatory she felt seeping through his pale skin and ragged breaths._

_There was the strangle to_ be _again; the throttling to hold on to what little purpose he could find in such an existence, a life that had never really been his own but designed_ for _him; the terrible awareness in knowing he had failed to meet Snoke’s great expectations for that life, and that he was no Master of Darkness but a pitiable Child of the Light forevermore; the soul-crushing realisation that had come to pass with the taking of his father’s life: that that Darkness would never claim him as its worthy prince and that he had lost, lost everything and everyone; and the instant, irrepressible regret that had laboured over him ever since the day Han was struck down._

_The answer Leia had been seeking was suddenly breathtakingly clear. It was why Ben Solo had come home: he could no longer deny who he was. He was her son, a Solo and a Prince of the Light, and there could be no other path for his tormented soul but this, no matter how badly_ _Snoke tried to craft him into someone else._

“ _Oh, my boy,” Leia whimpered, instantly moved to tears. She sensed Ben’s conscientious efforts to withdraw emotion, to bar himself from feeling as she was so deeply experiencing. “My poor boy… My poor, precious boy…”_

“ _I…am no longer…your boy,” he grappled to speak, voice restricted, yet irrevocably broken._

_Leia, unable to stop herself, leaned into him and grasped both sides of Ben’s face. His hair acted as a security blanket, however, its strands dangling in his eyes and masking much of his steely, controlled misery. He refused to meet her gaze and, rather, shut his eyes and breathed strenuously._

“ _You will_ always _be my boy, Ben,” Leia professed, her words never more adamant and truer to the ears, as tears began freely pouring down her face, their appearance Ben’s painful cleansing, “no matter what you do. No matter where you go. No matter what happens._ You are my boy _.”_

“ _Mother…” he murmured into one of her palms, his breathing tight and crushed._

“ _You will_ always _be mine._ My _boy,” she emphasised, lovingly swaddling his face despite his repeated efforts to hide himself. Her thumbs made gentle strokes across his freshly wet cheekbones. “I love you, Ben, do you understand me? I’ve_ never _stopped loving you._ Never _. Nothing you say or do will_ ever _change how much you mean to me. You were always worth saving, do you hear? You’re worth it still.”_

“ _Mo – Mother,” he stammered, breathless._

_Suddenly, Ben clutched onto one of Leia’s small hands and effortlessly smothered it._ _Leia scooted closer, pressed an urgent kiss to his cheek, and affirmed, with her lips brushing that same dampened cheek, “You are my boy, you hear? My all. My_ everything _. And you are saved.”_

_Finally, Ben surrendered, collapsing the majority of his bundled weight against her. Leia was ready to catch him and hugged him close, with a hand woven across his shoulder whilst the other supported his crumbled face in the crook of her arm. His cries were stifled, protected, as Leia brushed a soothing hand over his wide back, hovered over him and persistently kissed the top of his head._

“ _It’s going to be all right, my son,” she whispered into his hair, rocking them back and forth in the darkness, with the sensation that Han was watching in a nearby corner. “We’re going to get through this, you and me. I have you now. I’ve got you and I’ll never let go again, I promise.”_

_From beyond a wall that met the corridor’s large opening, Rey watched the tearful reunion of mother and son from her private corner, silent tears cascading down her cheeks. She could feel the constriction in Ben’s chest releasing with every cry as much as she knew her own heartbeat. He was returned, she realised, and her own chest swelled with awe and completion. Ben Solo had fully turned at last._

_Then Rey sensed Master Luke standing behind her. She started and sunk back against the wall, grateful for the natural darkness concealing her blush at having gotten herself caught snooping about._

_Master Luke’s eyes, too, were misty, but his next order bore no room for debate. “Go back to bed, Rey.”_

_Rey, still abashed but tearful, wasted little time arguing. For once, she obeyed her teacher and scampered down the hallway out of sight._

_Master Luke lingered a moment longer, the emotional image of his nephew’s and his sister’s reunion as vivid in his mind as, he suspected, Rey’s. He soon returned to his designated cot,_ _not to rest but to meditate over this turn of events._


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Notes : A scene in this particular chapter has been a long-time coming for this story. Warning - It's one of the reasons that this fic is rated M. Thank you to those who review...**
> 
> **Disclaimer : _Star Wars_ is copyrighted to and belongs to Lucasfilm and Disney. I’m just piloting this piece of junk and own none of their associated characters. New characters belong to me.**

**Chapter 25**

_“There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”_  
—Sarah Dessen

* * *

_Ben rolled onto his opposite side to face away from the intrusive window that left him exposed to an audience of foreign passer-bys. He pulled the tatty blanket he had been provided by his mother’s regime to his neck and burrowed his face into a dismally flat pillow, squeezing his eyes shut in opposition to the persistent ringing in his ears._

_It had been less than twenty-four hours since Leia had had the good sense to leave Ben to rest in his cell after drifting off to sleep in her arms. The last recollection Ben had before being rocked to sleep by his long-lost mother was acting a soppy, sloppy mess. He had wept that night as hard as the day his father perished under his murderous hand, her Light encasing him as though he was still that beloved little prince from years’ lost. He had clung to her as though he was about to be left behind during one of her Senate meetings with important galactic politicians abroad, his clammy, grabby hands willing her to stay; his thoughts desperate for Mom and Dad not to leave him behind yet again to do whatever Adult Things they preferred; his desperate, shattered heart imploring them to yank him from the Darkness and be his saviors._

_‘Save me… Save me…’_

_Alas, Leia’s and Han’s love hadn’t been enough to rescue Ben Solo from Snoke, so he hardly expected his mother’s unconditional love to liberate his tainted soul now…or his dispensable life. Still, he had cried under the halo of her sensational forgiveness; at her breath-taking fortitude for cradling him despite the beast of a man she had borne._

_‘You’re mine._ Mine. _My own.’_

_No visitors came to Ben’s cell the following day; or if they did, their prisoner was too worn down and dazed from the shaky reunion between mother and son to acknowledge their interference. He had slept off and on most of the day, trying to ward off a headache and oncoming sickness. He suspected who might be breaching his mind and causing his present physical havoc, including a nagging ringing that wouldn’t cease against his sore temples: Snoke._

_The Supreme Leader had been astonishingly quiet for several weeks, never reaching out to his commander to demand an update about the location of Luke Skywalker or the nameless scavenger. Ben had been kept on tenterhooks since their last threatening exchange on the island months prior, constantly replaying his master’s expectation of good news whenever he might pop through to next make brutal contact._

_Otherwise, there would be hell to pay…and hell was Ben’s present state of mind, with or without Snoke’s intrusion. In the end, he had proven himself a weakling to the Dark, submitting to the Light with pitiable ease that, no less, surprised_ him _as much as it surely bewildered others._

Rey…

_For all Ben could surmise, Snoke probably knew that his puppet had been taken in by the Resistance and received his martyr of a mother’s pardon. Was the unsettlingly wise, all-knowing Supreme Leader enraged? Had he expected his apprentice to fail all along and, thus, quietly dismissed him? Was he biding his time, awaiting the right moment to make Ben Solo pay?_

Most likely the last.

_Whichever angle Ben analysed his predicament from he was, to his astute deduction, doomed. There was no doubt he was to incur Snoke’s wrath after having had re-accepted his former self and princely birth right. He could practically hear his father’s scruffy, easygoing voice snorting in his head; or, perhaps, the smuggler’s ghost was occupying his cell today just to agitate his son out of much-wanted sleep._

_‘He knows, kid. He_ always _knew who you really were. He foolishly thought he could fashion you into somethin’ else—a dangerous tool intended to be used against your family—but he failed, Ben. And now he’s gonna want somethin’ done about it.’_

_Ben groaned into his pillow. Exhausted and hardly in the mood for more conversations with the Afterlife, he heaved the threadbare blanket up to his pinched face in the hopes of catching further sleep. Then, as if on cruel cue, his cell door clicked and soft shuffling of footsteps soon followed, entering his makeshift cell with purpose. Much to his disgruntlement, sleep wasn’t a wish about to be granted to Ben Solo now. He suspected who had come before they spoke, for it was impossible not to sense her marrying strong connection to the Force._

_“You’re awake.”_

_“So it would seem,” he grumbled, his words ending in a drawn out sigh. He reluctantly shifted the blanket onto his wide shoulders, though he wouldn’t roll over to face Rey yet. “What do you want?”_

_There was a considerable pause, one that was hesitant and unclear. “To inquire as to what you intend to tell him.”_

_Ben’s eyelids flickered, heavy with the need for more rest, as though he had managed none over the past twenty-four hours. “Wha…? Who?”_

_“Don’t treat me like an idiot, Ben.” Her voice was bridled but he knew that that could fracture at the seams at any moment. “I know he’s reached out to you…”_

That would explain my headache _, it dawned on Ben._

_Evidently, Rey wasn’t going to back down until she got an answer to her liking. “What will you tell him?” she repeated, insistent._

_Ben fisted the inside of his blanket. “What’s it to you?” he snapped, rather, a displeasing curl of his upper lip drawing onto his mouth._

_Rey, uninterested in being goaded into an argument brought on by Ben’s testiness, replied, with patience, “You were thinking about him just now. I’d like to be able to warn the general if your intention is to give away our location.”_

That _finally earned Ben’s wakefulness. In an instant, he threw back the blanket, hurled his sizeable legs over the side of his cot, and stared Rey down like a hunched loth-cat, causing the Padawan’s knees to jolt. His clothes were ruffled, his hair a tussled jumble of dark curls, and his eyes were bloodshot and angry._

_“So,” he offered lowly, with a spine-tingling sneer, “you still don’t trust me, then?”_

_Rey muttered, taking slow breaths, “Yes…I do.”_

_“Then what’s this_ really _about? Why are you here?”_

_Rey recoiled slightly. “Do you not want me to come and see you anymore?”_

_“Get on with it, would you?” he hissed, ignoring the suggestion in her face of having somehow been slighted. “What do you want from me, Rey?”_

_Rey swallowed, unable—or afraid—to disentangle her feelings when put on the spot. “You… You still have an awful lot of conflict in you, Ben. I thought maybe I could…”_

_“You could_ what _?” he snipped when she hadn’t completed her thought._

_Her voice turned faint, smaller. “I thought you might want some help or…or reassurance is all. When you were thinking about him just now I feared… I feared that that might be needed.”_

_Unfazed, and feeling affronted in addition to knackered, Ben spat between gritted teeth, “I don’t require your help or your vote of confidence in my ability to keep my mouth shut.” He regretted his harsher choice of tone by the look of injury that crossed Rey’s eyes. “Anyway,” he stated, with calmness restored, “I appreciate the gesture, but you can’t help me in this situation, Rey. No one can.”_

_Rey stared on, searching his peaked face with a nervous, yet strangely hopeful tick. “You won’t…tell him, then?”_

_Ben made to subdue the stinging sense of unrest in the middle of his chest. “I thought you’d established actual faith in me at this point in time,” he answered simply, each word eroding but no less accepting of the way things seemingly were, “but to answer your burning question: no, I have no plans to inform the Supreme Leader, though I suspect he’ll try to extract the information from me one way or another.” He paused, eyebrows raised expectantly. “Are we finished?”_

_There was another long unintentional silence, with Rey gradually swaying from one hip to the other. The wrinkles along her brow dissipated, but Ben’s tense, seated stance prevailed._

_“I’m sorry,” she, at last, whispered, fighting not to lower her gaze in shame._

_Ben’s response was succinct but sour. “Don’t be.”_

_Then he wielded his legs onto his too-small cot, turned away from Rey, and collapsed his head onto his pillow, opting for sleep rather than ill-confidence. He sensed her continuing to linger, however, refusing to accept his silence as her mark for dismissal._

_The conflict within soon flat-lined and, slowly, Rey crept up behind him. She lowered herself onto the edge of Ben’s bed, eventually scooting so near as to brush her hip to his lower spine. They both stilled, Ben in steady breathing and Rey in nervous writhing._

_“Ben?” she whispered, her register so gentle and considerate that he found it almost painful to hear._

_There was no reply but an anxious, persistent silence. Rey made a sincere move that, inwardly, startled Ben: she leaned over him, the stretch of her shadow soon overtaking the visible side of Ben’s face, and it prompted a knee-jerk reaction, for he quickly closed his eyes and pretended to have fallen asleep. Two heated, timid breaths grazed his lightly furred cheek and then, like a picturesque setting sun, a feathery kiss was pressed to his skin, sweet and soothing and utterly apologetic._

_“I’m sorry for doubting you,” came her earnest, soft-spoken regret, each breath tickling his ear. “I just… I had to be sure that he wasn’t toying with you again.”_

_Ben, with his throat constricted and his heart now pounding like a furious drum, eased onto his back to stare up into her too honest and open face. He heard her breath hitch._

_“You haven’t thought about him in so long that I… I worried that…maybe… Erm, never mind. It doesn’t matter anymore. I believe you.”_

_Ben studied her rose-tinted cheeks and sheepish, submissive glances, broken only on occasion by peering at his blanket or sweeping his neckline. She was an indisputable innocent, beautifully guileless and self-facing in nature. It was hard for Ben to imagine Rey the Scavenger, tough as nails and a merciless survivor when, in a tender exchange such as this, she could look so equally artless and naïve._

_At last, Ben proposed, his eyes transfixed as they stared into hers, “Do you want to stay?”_

_Even under the guise of poor lighting, Ben didn’t miss how Rey’s eyes lifted and expanded at the thought, un-secretively relieved that she hadn’t had to dance around the issue that was her unflagging need to sleep next to him; but instead of yielding out loud, Rey wordlessly made hasty use of kicking off her boots, tugging her hair free of its three constructed small buns, and slipping underneath Ben’s blanket, opened to welcome her, without a word. She tucked her head snug beneath his chin, as well as snuck a leg in between his thick thighs, as if such warm intimacy were long-standing and…normal._

_Ben offered no complaint to this advanced tactic, though he did snort into her lush hair, “You could have just said so from the start, you know.”_

_Rey smiled into his skin but instead of addressing her own insecurity, she asked, “What if we get caught like…like this?”_

_Ben found that question most peculiar. The hour was late, with much of the Resistance having retired to their bunks, including the general, but a small group of on-watch personnel wandered the base, monitoring the area and checking for enemy detection in the skies. Apparently, Ben wasn’t under surveillance tonight and half wondered if, as he checked the window and found no one snooping about, Rey had had anything to do with their present convenience of privacy._

_Ben settled his head against his pillow and rested a hand on Rey’s lower back. “Who cares if we do?” he challenged in short._

_Rey’s dainty but rough fingers made slippery traces across the fabric lining Ben’s chest. It was some time before she said anything._

_“It doesn’t bother you?”_

_Ben, too, had begun unconscious circles, following the natural curve of Rey’s spine up, down, and all ways around. She shivered under his feathery touch._

_“No.” He paused his thoughtful ministrations, suddenly rattled by self-doubts. “Would it bother you to be seen with me?”_

_“No, but…” Rey chewed her bottom lip. “Your – Your mother might—”_

_“She hardly has a say in anything when it comes to me now.” There was a brief but significant lapse in the conversation. Then Ben added, with snark, “Rey?” She raised her head to stare over the broad length of his nose and into his glistening eyes, confused. “Do try not to bring up my mother when you’re rubbing your knee against my groin, won’t you?”_

_Rey gave a violent yelp, jerked in Ben’s arms, and, sorely mindful of what had been an unconscious act, made to bail, thwarted when he hissed sharply moments later at her knee digging into his crotch. Ben flew forward, taking her with him._

_“_ Fuck _!” he cursed, dissolving into amused laughter once the pain had subsided. It was trying not to be humoured by Rey’s frazzled state as she tried (clumsily) to scurry out of his embrace. “Careful, would you? That’s a sensitive sector.”_

_Sensing Ben’s pleasant reaction to the friction she had unintentionally put in motion, Rey lowered her head, intending to bury her mortified expression in all of the man’s burly chest; but that rapidly became too unbearable to withstand, too._

_In a wild frenzy, Rey pivoted, intending to make another break for it, and fumbled to extract words from her stammering tongue. She raised herself and avoided eye contact at all cost._

_“I’ll just… I’ll be, uh, go – going, I think. Um, yeah—”_

_Rey’s scrambling was brought to a saber-igniting halt by the sturdy hands that latched onto her arms, holding her back. With steady direction, they eased her forward and Rey, no longer able to evade Ben, locked eyes once more, suspended by the hunger in his breathless gaze that held her sway. The awareness that their flushed faces were inches apart was apparent, their heated bodies sandwiched together._

_Rey didn’t so much as chance a breath herself, for the strange sensation of Ben’s hardened length, though protected by his trousers, brushing against her inner thigh made the rest of her body tingle and tremble with… Was it delight? Was it nerves? Rey couldn’t make heads or tails of such seesawing emotions, and yet, she could no longer detect whether her instincts were her own or the will of the Force._

_There was one instinct Rey was certain of: Ben Solo desired her…and the feeling was mutual._

_The sweltering invitation in his eyes solidified her certainty, so Rey willingly brought her lips to his, supple and receptive, a dashing, significant move initiated before either of them had the chance to muck things up by speaking. Her greedy fingers drove behind Ben’s head, weaving their way through his silken, soft locks. His large, exploratory hands, too, mapped a course down Rey’s back to caress her backside, an area that seemed to perfectly meld to the size and shape of his palms._

_It was a mere blink of an eye and Ben was suddenly sitting upright, with Rey’s strong legs straddling his waistline. Their insatiable lip locking had heightened in intensity, feverish kiss after kiss matching the accompanying thirst their hands made to touch and squeeze and hold every part of one another._

_Garments deterred from sought after skin-on-skin investigation and, soon, slithering digits had coasted across Rey’s front, slinking to the top of her stomach and beneath her tunic to cup her right breast. Rey broke off mid-savory kiss to squeak, each breath erratic but excited, “Someone might see!” She wrestled to bat Ben’s hand away._

_His next words, a clashing growl, reduced Rey to a shudder. “Let them see,” he dared,_ _resuming his shameless, wondrous groping at once._

_Rey was lost for retorts or excuses, for, as Ben’s mouth recaptured hers, drowning her thoughts in another ardent kiss, the possibility of getting caught fondling and snogging each other senseless was quickly lost. Expanding unexplored cravings was reaching an uncontrollable pitch on both sides._

_Ben’s enthusiastic hand massaged Rey’s bosom for a time, at first too roughly but with a few choice words from her, his inexperienced pawing relaxed into a gradual, gentler motion that she appreciated. As his thumb circled her nipple and felt it harden under his petting, the small gasps of pleasure this move emitted gave an infatuated Ben the confidence to defy his own naiveté. Watching the sensual rapture of Rey’s hips dipping and curving against him, too, egged Ben towards reaching the remainder of her tempting flesh, presently hidden. His mouth parted from Rey’s, despite her whimper of protest, to glide down her chin, along the contours of her neck, and, lastly, to her heaving chest, the trail of hot kisses he left behind earning enticed chills and moans._

_Ben’s animated breaths hovered around her collarbone. Rey squirmed but only with impatience, for she was no longer meagre or daunted at falling under his spell. She struggled to straighten her spine and fledged her cross-shaped tunic over her head, exposing her naked flesh at last. She disposed of her clothing and caught Ben’s blatant, adorably boy-like stare. It was innocent and enchanting, bashful at the natural sight of her, and yet, incontestably aroused. Evidently, the pair of small, perky breasts teasing his sights was something that turned Ben Solo on._

_Rey perceived Ben fumbling for some measure of control through their shared Force connection and was alleviated to unearth that he, too, was supposedly inexperienced. It put what little nerves that had been fluttering about in Rey’s stomach finally to rest. Sexual sensitivity was new and thrilling but to the unseasoned Padawn, it was, also, intimidating. She could hardly confound what to do with these overwhelming sensations that burned inside of her like a raging fire; that bellowed of desire; of becoming uninhibited and carefree….with Ben._

_Ben’s round saucers for eyes gradually found their way to Rey’s face again, their deep pools illuminated despite the low lights. Neither one spoke, though each could read the other’s raw thoughts that transmitted a shared, passionate consensus for what their bodies craved._

_Then Rey leaned in for the next kiss, its execution this time unhurried, even fragile by comparison to others. Ben reacted not as she anticipated: he moaned long and quietly into her mouth…and she, in turn, shook and spasmed. His hands no longer clasped or pinched but stroked the length of her arms with care, with a certain attentiveness she had never felt before._

_Was this what it meant to be…loved? Abandoned, lonesome Rey hardly knew, but she certainly_ liked _how this felt. She returned his sweet exchange, trailing her hands lightly across his broad neck to his collar before plucking at his black, pleated tunic, wordlessly requesting its obliteration from their touch exchange._

_Ben obliged without speaking, permitting an eagre Rey to aid him in wrenching his tunic from his belt. She took the liberty of loosening that as well. Ben lifted his robust arms into the air to help complete the task and, with his tunic properly disposed of, he provided Rey access to the pale, untouched flesh beneath._

_She stole a half contrite, half mischievous glance at Ben’s bare chest, admiring its sculpted paragon, with a dusting of dark hairs at the centre of his sternum that her hand lovingly groomed over. Yet, there were unnatural, grisly markings as well. Some slashes coursed deeper than others, rooted crevasses and seemingly painful blemishes that assaulted otherwise perfectly fine porcelain-like flesh._

_Rey’s agile fingers traced Ben’s sternum, considerate of her musings as she grazed over his left peck. There, her curious hand laid itself flat above his accelerated heartbeat. Each tapping reverberated against her palm, an echo of life in its purest form._

_Aware of his sudden lessening pleasure, Rey cast her eyes to his. Ben appeared serious, reserved, a contrast from moments ago. She blinked a couple times, confused by the glint of—Was it pain? Was it disgruntlement?—she spotted._

_“Ben?” Rey started to ask, but her ignorance was soon lifted._

_Ben shrunk from her, gesturing at the unattractive markings etched along his shoulders, chest, and arms with his descending eyes. He wouldn’t look her in the face anymore; he couldn’t bring himself to do so._

_Rey was stunned. How had this veraciously massive man turned strikingly childlike and insecure in a matter of seconds? Although Rey could guesstimate where such scars originated, she wasn’t interested in addressing her theories; rather, her kind, gentle face remained compassionate and non-deprecating._

_“Ben,” she whispered once more, that loving utterance, at last, warranting the return of his gaze; it remained questionable and uncertain, however._

_Rey swept a hand across his cheekbone, whisking a loose curl out of her way. That same hand cradled his chin, holding it stable a moment before skimming along his bobbing Adam’s apple. It settled upon his left shoulder where a particularly deep gash curved to the formation of bone there. He visibly started when she bent forward to kiss the cut, expressing acceptance of such physical shortcomings without question or a gleam of judgment. When she reared back, Ben was eying her over, bewildered._

_“I have some, too,” came her soft-spoken confession, a genuine smile lighting her cheeks. “Did you not notice?”_

_Ben opened his mouth to reply but words apparently failed him. He was directed towards one of Rey’s scars when she took his right hand and placed it three inches above her right breast. There, an imperfection cut into her supple skin. Her smile broadened at Ben chancing a glance from the mark to her. His reaction may have seemed mild, but his eyes, a dark water of unspoken truths, suggested a different story._

_Encouraged by her act of good faith, Ben leaned in to press his lips to her healed wound, a simplistic but no less powerful display of acceptance. Rey gave a slight inhale and retook possession of his hand, guiding it to a wider scar above her lower right rib. He adoringly addressed that one with a kiss as well._

_Then Rey cupped his chin, raised his head, and brought them nose to nose. Maintaining her exquisite smile, Rey cushioned Ben’s face between her hands and kissed him hard on the mouth._

_Their spiritual and physical connection, already set abalaze with zealous sexual drive from all past canoodling, elevated like a ticking grenade about to explode. Rey’s breasts nudged Ben’s chest as she re-positioned herself nearer to him. Ben, enthralled by the feel of her warm skin pressed to his, pushed her closer so that there could be no gaps or breathing room spared. His length combed her crotch a few times and with each stroke, Rey released a series of pent-up groans._

_“Ben…” she all but pleaded into his mouth, continuing to support his face whilst being swaddled in return by his solid, secure arms._

_“Say you love me,” he surprised her by rasping, holding tight to her as he ground against her lower garments._

_Rey’s lack of a response prompted his next course. He slid one hand from around her back and crept it inside of her trousers, heatedly cupping her sex. He wasn’t exactly sure of what he was doing, only that his instincts—or, perhaps, it could be attributed to the Force’s instrumental guidance—told him to reach her there; to make her body sing._

_Rey released a loud, shocked gasp and panted against his mouth,“Oh! Ben!”_

_His index finger grazed her outer walls before digging in between her folds, eyes carefully watching her face contort and warp, altering depending upon which angle he used. It was hard to tell, at first, whether Rey was in agony or experiencing real pleasure but once he felt her thighs start tightening around his hand and her hips buckling at certain strokes, as if trying to deepen the penetration, Ben understood that he was on the right path._

_“Say it,” he demanded—hissed—against her lips, teasing her with another round of steamy kisses and bolder experimentation of his hand._

_“I… Oh!” she started and faltered several times. Her rubbing movements against him quickened._

_Ben’s palm unintentionally prodded her clit and Rey’s response—chafing and grunting simultaneously—wheedled him towards reapplying the same tension. He loved her small mewls and heavy, taut breaths, as well as how her fingernails clung to his skin to the point that his erection was becoming painful._

_“Say it, Rey.”_

_Ben ceased what he was doing for a moment, bringing Rey up short. She frowned at him and was about to tell him off, but then he wedged two fingers deeper inside of her than ever before, somehow kindling her sweetest spot, and she found herself unable to withhold her tongue._

_A defiant, breathless cry of “_ Damn it, I love you _!” crawled forth from the back of her throat._

_The words were distinct, as clear as the stars, and the room was abuzz with the gravity that those few powerful words held. It might have been their Force bond—or their humming, thrumming bodies wishing to become one—but either way, Ben was livened by a revelation that had been long in the making: she loved him._

_As he, in fact, loved her._

_At once, Ben amplified the friction between his hand and her G-spot. Rey, caught off guard after nearly coming, opened her mouth wide. Another strangled noise lurched from within, causing her body to quake, and then she thrust hard against his hand. She was cursing seconds later, however, when he abruptly removed said friction, wondering why the son of a Bantha would cease when she was teetering on the edge; but her sourness and matching scowl were short-lived._

_Working in haste, Ben manoeuvered Rey rather effortlessly towards the inside of the bed, closest to the wall, and with a toss of his head, he suggested that she lay flat on her back. He rolled over top of her and, exercising a brief stroke of his fingers, nudged her legs apart so as to position himself at her entrance. He lugged the blanket higher to cover them from possible prying, checking the window momentarily for any snooping. No one was about but, at that point, he wouldn’t have had the wherewithal to stop had some creeper had their ruddy nose pressed to the damn glass._

_Ben tottered in unzipping his trousers, his fingers suddenly flimsy and unhelpful, but managed to mount himself, pausing only to provide Rey a reassuring look over that she didn’t appear to question. Her legs spread wider, inviting him in, her hands yanking aggressively at her own trousers to push them—and her knickers—down around her ankles. They were ungracefully kicked off somewhere at the ledge of the cot, lost amongst the rest of their clothing._

_The process was awkward and fast-paced, each heavily keen on getting a move on. How long had they been aching to connect in this way? Neither could draw a number—their brains were far too muddled—but the Force binding them together acted stalwart on quenching that want at long last, coinciding with their spellbound bodies now appropriately ensnared._

_Hovering above Rey, Ben sucked in a breath. He propped his elbows on either side of her for purchase, sensing her arms snaking to form to his shoulder blades. A rapid ball of nervous anticipation manifested, trembling._

_Rey stared into Ben’s eyes and he did likewise. It felt like an eternity, and yet, no time at all. Then he cautiously eased inside of her, stretching Rey’s walls to what she innocently believed was as far as he could roam. It was unfamiliar and uncomfortable but not unwelcome._

_Ben, acting purely on impulse at this point, began to jut his hips, but a sharp gasp from Rey stopped him short of increasing his pace. He glanced down at her, worried, taking in the look of pain morphing onto her face. Her reaction startled him._

_“Erm, am I doing something wrong?” he didn’t delay in asking._

_“N – No,” she breathed hard, unconvincing._

_Ben frowned. Something wasn’t right about this. Sex, from what little he understood about its practice, was supposed to be an enjoyable affair, and even for being as unpracticed as Ben Solo was in this department, he was smart enough to gather that Rey wasn’t savouring this bit of the exercise._

_“What is it?” he insisted, fighting the desperate urge that was his agonising erection that wanted to move and release. Being inside of Rey was warming on an otherworldly level that beat all past dexterous, personal handwork. His gnawing appetite to convulse was trying to ignore._

_Rey, who had her eyes squeezed shut, finally opened them and let forth a sharp exhale. “It… It hurts a little,” she admitted, colour flooding her cheeks._

_Ben arched his eyebrows. “Um… Shall I go slower?”_

_“Yeah…that might help.”_

_Without needing to be told twice, Ben began curving his hips back and forth, inching as slowly as his natural inclination would coincide with what little control he still carried. To his utter relief, the lines on Rey’s face started to disappear, informing him that this tempo was much more suitable to her. He bent his perspiring forehead to hers and continued to delve, their bodies dancing, syncing, intertwining. Their Force bond merged and expanded like a blossoming bud._

_“Oh!” Rey tweeted on repeat, every moan louder and rougher than the last; the carnal noises she let loose were enough to drive Ben batty, as was the sultry sound of her saying his name again and again. “Ben…”_

_Words were soon lost to her, so she pulled down on his face and attacked his mouth instead, smothering Ben with all of her fervid, frenzied love. Her expression was placating, her attention like the sun: warm, receiving, and blissful; a beacon of light in hollow, deep space. To Ben, it was suddenly breathtakingly clear: Rey felt like home._

_“Rey,” he returned in a tight murmur, sounding hoarse, yet vulnerable. “I… I…lo—”_

_Rey’s thighs gave a sudden clench. Her arms scraped uselessly at his back and roped taut around his shoulders. In an instant, she came hard, with a choked cry of his name. The spectacular visual of her climax propelled Ben over the edge and he, too, absolved himself and came, vibrating in Rey’s receiving arms. He barely maintained his hovering position above her and had to incline his forehead roughly against hers, strands of curls cascading like fleecy curtains around her head._

_Rey opened her eyes in time to catch the languid, half-cocked grin that blanketed Ben’s handsome lips. Her breath stalled at its candour; at its simple radiance. She afforded them both several preciously silent moments to take in a sufficient supply of oxygen. Then she sealed their union in a long, delicately executed kiss._

_“Ben?” she chanced speaking after their hefty breathing somewhat abated._

_That prompted him to open his eyes and peer down at her. To Rey, Ben Solo had never looked more serene than what was captured in that frame of time. The image practically brought tears to her eyes, though she tucked them beneath another need._

_“What were you going to tell me?” she asked innocently, her question marked by a divine wholesomeness that jabbed him in the chest._

_Ben blinked, contemplating. An eventual sigh in the form of a low shiver coated her cheeks, followed by a declaration that didn’t echo of promise but, rather, of something else; something fatally melancholic._

_“I… I lo… I love…” He swallowed, stunted, incapacitated. “I love you…too.”_

* * *

**Ten Years Earlier**

“Rey? _Rey_! Wake up!”

Rey was shaken awake from a deep, heart-pounding slumber. Her palms were sweaty, the covers far too toasty, and her heart was hammering against the confined walls of her chest. She stared up at Ben, frantically noting his concerned eyes and slightly sloped mouth.

“Wha…?” she breathed, slowly coming to. The confirmation of her wide-eyed husband, very much alive and unharmed, struck her with such gut-wrenching clarity that, immediately, she began to wail. Rey leapt forward in bed, threw her arms around his neck, and cried his name. “ _BEN_!”

Stunned and speechless, Ben made to recover and bundled a sobbing, inconsolable Rey in his arms. He gently pressed a hand to the nape of her neck and kissed the tears that poured down her cheeks.

“I’m here,” her murmured into her ear.

He repeated those two reassuring words in a steady, hushed motion, even as Rey continued to clasp at the back of Ben’s head, neck, or shoulders, as if trying to determine that that was, in fact, the truth. Ben recognised this desperation from experiences past, the terrors that sometimes plagued his poor wife late at night whether he was present to console her or not.

“I’m here, sweetheart… It was just a nightmare.”

“Oh, Ben,” Rey stammered, her cries reducing but, still, soul-crushing to his ears. “You were cold… Your hand… _It was so cold_ … You weren’t with me—”

“I _am_ with you, Rey,” he avowed, brushing his fingertips devotedly across her neck. “I’m right here.”

A tremble of misery overtook Rey, flowing from head to toe. Her lips found the side of his face and pressed heartfelt kisses to his cheek, the urgency in her alleviation shattering.

“You were gone,” she whimpered, squeezing him tightly. “I couldn’t bring you back. You left me, Ben… _You left me all alone_.”

“I’d never,” he insisted, meeting the intensity of her kisses with a few of his own, sharing in the enormity of her love for him, as he would never have expected, at one time, to be valued by another. _You feel me?_ his Force energy hopefully extended to hers.

Once found, it twined their bind ever stronger. _Yes_ , she responded, though feebler than the norm.

Ben lengthened his reach, entrapping his soulmate in comfort by surrounding her with the confidence and tenderness her hurting heart required. _And I, you._

It mystified Ben the frequency with which Rey had nightmares, particularly of him dying in her arms, that began with the birth of their first child; but he contributed it to the stress of their compromising positions in the Resistance, with his role as a prominent spy and ‘trusted’ Proclamation leader being its root cause. He had hoped that these nightmares would eventually cease but they hadn’t…and all he felt capable of offering in these tense-filled moments were embraces, encouraging kisses, and regular reassurances that might calm Rey’s hysteria.

Ben reared back, gathered her face between his palms, and thumbed the fighting tears that remained away. “I won’t leave you, Rey,” he swore softly. The Light of his life’s teary, anguished gaze saw Ben’s heart—and conviction—fighting her greatest trepidation. “I will _always_ be with you.”

Rey gulped, her voice stirred when she begged of him in the dark, “Be with me, Ben?”

“Of course.” He gave her one of his heavier smiles, rare and, to her, a thing of splendour. “Always.”

“Be with me,” she sniveled one last time before collapsing in his arms out of exhaustion. “ _Be with me always, my love_.”

* * *

**Present Day**

**(Proclamation’s Star base)**

_“Kill the youngling, and bring the rest of his good-for-nothing family to me! We shall execute them here! But Ren’s_ mine _to finish!”_

Petrified with fear—and unable to budge without risking electrocution—Amidala made a meticulous twist of her spine, her frightened, large eyes peering past her father’s shoulder to assess the seven Knights of Ren closing in on their tight but greatly disadvantaged formation. Ben possessed their only weapon of protection—his cross-guard saber—and while that, at least, was warding off the Supreme Leader’s mighty Force lightening, if he but tossed it to her just so that she might potentially wound one of the knights, the convulsions that would shoot through him would surely kill him…and likely pass onto her.

 _You_ must _fight, Ami_ , her conscience stressed, her young, frantic mind trying to formulate a speedy plan of attack.

There were no options her panic-striken thoughts could form in those crucial seconds, however, for the Padawan learner possessed no saber of her own. The Knights of Ren were well-equipped with swords, knives, and an assortment of malicious apparatuses to take each of them out; she currently had only her hands at her disposal.

_And your damn mind, you know!_

Amidala’s heart thumped twice as fast. The idea of relying solely on the Force for safety was petrifying. She wasn’t like her veteran parents, after all, exceptionally habituated in instrumenting the Force’s power to manipulate situations or put themselves at an advantage. She had yet to entirely harness such complicated mind control, so there was a high probability that the moment she fought back, she would loose the battle…and possibly take out her father in the process.

_NO! Fight back, Ami! FIGHT BACK!_

“ _AMI_!” came Ben’s abrupt shout, forcing the poor girl into action before her limited expertise would ever be ready. Snoke’s Force lightening was starting to dwindle her father’s strength but, also, physically push them backwards. “Take…it!” he commanded through a fixed grimace, his working arm convulsing uncontrollably as he struggled to maintain a mandatory shield.

Amidala was sure that her heart had stopped beating. “WHAT?” she countered in alarm.

“In three, two—”

Amidala clutched the arm presently safeguarding her from harm. “ _DAD_!” she screamed at a guttural, horrified pitch that Ben was forced to ignore.

“ONE!” he hollered above the commotion and chaos.

The next seconds were a blur in which Amidala orchestrated adrenaline she hardly recognised possessing. Wielding fearsome Force will, Ben thrust her to the right several feet, throwing her well out of the direct path of Snoke’s Force lightening but, less fortunately, straight towards two crouching, awaiting knights. Startled, Amidala leapt backward to avoid a strike to her face, grabbed ahold of a durasteel bar hovering above her head, and lunged both feet forward to whack the first of the two squarely in the jugular. The knight immediately forfeited his sword, dropping both it and his knees to the ground to cradle his compromised throat, choking on his own spit.

Amidala sensed Ben’s cross-saber soaring towards her ear before it visually materialised in her left hand. Her hands slipped the bar first, allowing the handle of Ben’s cross-saber to curl around her secure, white-knuckled fingers. Knelt upon the ground, she raised her father’s saber in time to prevent the other knight’s four-inch, razor-edged knife from slicing her head in half.

There was no time to gauge where her father was in the mayhem. Amidala hustled to stand by pushing the knight backward with all of her finite physical might, her face one of clenched, terrified concentration. She began to brandish the cross-saber to-and-fro, relying on the trust she felt pulsating through her fingertips with every violent stroke. Her fighter may have been significantly taller and wider in spectrum, but his strength was surprisingly inadequate against the youth’s bold, broad strikes.

In a fleet-footing manoeuvre, Amidala squatted and spun in a circle, severing the knight at his waist. The insurmountable spouting of blood and guts assaulted her nostrils, so she made a cursory reverse of her head, missing the knight’s eerie two halves toppling to the floor moments later like falling dominos. Her sight _did_ hone in on another swiftly morphing fright, however: her defenceless father utilising his hands alone to fend off Snoke’s Force lightening. His face was bloodless, ravaged, and drained of energy.

Amidala jerked and bellowed to him, “ _DAD_!” before swinging the cross-saber without regard for her own safety. She let it fly out of her hand and had no idea if he caught it, for three Knights of Ren suddenly flanked together and barrelled towards her, flourishing their weaponry high in the air.

Amidala’s stomach coiled, a jarring realisation pressing upon her oxgyen-deprived chest: she wasn’t going to make it. She could take them one at a time, perhaps, but she wouldn’t stand a chance when it was three against one.

An unexpected ringing swept over the noisy, war-raging room. Amidala, determining that if she _was_ about to die, she would much rather face the individual who had just called her name, turned to the comforting source, stunted by what came hurling towards her seconds after: her own faithful lightsaber.

Amidala locked eyes with Rey for the briefest moment and then, resigned, confronted her opponents.

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N (cont.) : Lots more to be revealed in future chapters to come...but for now, thank you to those who review!**


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